


Bad Boyfriend

by Typosmyown



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Adding tags, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blowjobs, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Dubious Consent, Larry Sex, Lilo sex, M/M, Nouis sex, Orgies, Slut Shaming, Top Harry, Zouis sex, another Louis-centered fiction, bum appreciation piece, but he wants to top, but not really, double anal penetraion, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typosmyown/pseuds/Typosmyown
Summary: Harry Styles is broken-hearted when he returns to England where he meets a seemingly one dimensional slutty neighbor with a particularly attractive arse named Louis Tomlinson. Apparently there are more dimensions to Louis than being a stunning bottom.





	Bad Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> One shot was the goal. I give you what should be a charptered work. I suck at writing one-shots. This was supposed to be a one-shot with Louis being a slutty character with a fat bum. Oops.  
> work under editing...  
> ***

Harry Styles transfers to Uni in London from the States. He’s left his studies in Boston because of an incessant heart-ache. A pain from which Harry feels he can’t escape. Having made the mistake of becoming the boyfriend of a graduate student in his same program the consequences were dramatic. One day Harry came home to find he’d been replaced. 

In his apartment, mid-day, shagging his boyfriend was another lad. His boyfriend was callous, unapologetic, basically telling Harry on the spot their two year relationship was over. The boyfriend was moving on to greener pastures.

So on Harry’s first weekend of school at a new campus, new apartment, new everything, Harry goes out to a club on Friday. He’s alone but he’s telling himself he will be celebrating moving on. Having the strength to leave what he had behind. Start anew. Defy his heartbreak and the power it has over him.

Three hours into his night out alone Harry has had many attempts by women and men to make his acquaintance. He’s declined the women quickly. With the men he lingers. It starts with each man buying him a drink. It ends with Harry never warming up to these new men because they all are either too similar to his boyfriend, ex boyfriend, or too different. There is no spark and by the time the few hours of this craving for love have passed all Harry has is the sinking feeling that he has drank too much. A sense he might purge, not like the sickening inside he’s for weeks with his despair, but because he just consumed entirely too much alcohol.

 

Goes to the men’s room. The urinals are not all claimed but Harry needs a stall. 

He goes to the two stalls. One is marked by a sign on the door “out of order” so he pushes the door to what he presumes might be a free stall. Who the hell uses the toilet anyway at a club at peak hours?…..

To his surprise there is a guy sitting there. He’s got an obstruction on his lap so Harry can see only his face, his arms, his lower legs, feet. His feet are in shoes, his shirt a cutout tank that reveals his muscular arms but his pants are slid all the way down to bunch around his ankles giving his bare legs an pelvis optimal freedom. It’s his face that catches Harry’s attention as he is gasping with pleasurable soft gasps escaping through an mouth open, with his eyes closed because…

…yes.

On his lap, facing away from the stall door so Harry only can see the second boy from the back is a totally naked smaller lad. His legs are spread so he to straddles the forward-facing lad so both are supported on the toilet.

The boy who is facing away from the door has his arms around the neck of the lad he is sat on. His skin is a mostly smooth continuum of golden-honey skin. The exception is how his shoulders have some pinking like he was maybe in the sun too long except his bum too is too pinkish with some red blotches. All of him is moist, glistening. His thighs look firm and full but full doesn't even begin to describe what Harry’s eyes are riveted to.

In the hands of the lad facing forward are voluptuous arse cheeks of the lad faced away. The voluptuous cheeks are being fondled. Squeezed. Parted but hands that struggle to mange their plumpness in past perhaps because of the sweat glistening on them. When the larger lad manages to part cheekswith his hands it reveals all to well how the smaller lad is riding dick that is at least massive in girth if nothing else. Something about how much the small lad takes himself up the length as he rides suggests the cock is as long as it is fat.

Harry hears the bottom talking. He is not at all sure what the bottom says, riding cock in a public restroom. It seems there are some commands. Maybe Harry can’t hear the bottom well because his voice is soft, raspy, apppearing to speak only when whispering into the neck of the one he is riding. When he arches his back, extending his head back in some beautifully arch, the bottom makes extended moans like it’s too much the pleasure in him taking the larger lad’s massive cock. 

The few comments the bigger lad makes are scattered between his gasps while he’s being ridden to the standards appearing to be set by the power bottom. 

“Big fat arse always makes everyone, Louis, be your daddy... 

“full, full bum... 

“but tight, tight little body... 

“dirty mouth... 

“always being so, so needy...” Words trail off replaced by gasps that turn into “ahs”, “oh yes”, “YES!” 

Harry can’t feel his urge to purge any longer because his involuntary senses totally phased out from overload of the two lads going at it in the stall. The guy being ridden begins to push down the boy bottoming to control the top’s need to inforce his length be maintained buried deep. All this is becoming too loud for those causally using the room to not look and stare. 

Restored focus from his own vourism awakens Harry’s senses as watches as this tiny lad’s big bum, sweaty, a little red from hands gripping, become more red as this top begins slapping it hard, switching to commands. 

“You win slu....” What started to be calling the small lad slut is lost as this top begins to orgasm. He’s dumping his ejaculate deep in the bottom’s body. He moves his hands from having them on bottom to being about shoulder blade at back. Harry believes the bottom is bending back because, sure... 

The bottom comes. His jizz spatters up his top’s torso, some hits the top’s chin where the top has some neatly trimmed beard to complement his short, dark, manicured hair. The bottom’s hair is longer, a mess of fringe that seems to block the lad’s face even when he leans back like he is doing now through his orgasm with his arms fully dropped to his side looked he is spent doing this power bottom dick riding. He’s trusting the top to keep him on the lap.

Harry has not yet even the tiniest clue what the face of the bottom looks like. Still new to the area. No friends yet. On a heart broke bender too so he hasn’t been out much and so as the top pulls the bottom back to his chest taking him tenderly, protectively, kissing shoulders he gives some indication of the bottom’s look while still blinded by passion to Harry’s presence, Harry wishes the identity to be revealed.

“Such a pretty, pretty thing. So delicate, beautiful and powerful...”

The tender words stop because that is when the top gains consciousness of the surroundings. Brown eyes under bold eyebrows flash open to stare at Harry. 

”Get out you fucking wanker! Out!” 

***

Laundry day. Harry hates it. He’s got no clean clothes left and there’s a “small party” he is invited too. Harry is so much looking forward to this party. But. He’s not sure if he should have put the shirt he wants to wear, the floral Gucci shirt, in the wash, even on delicate, but he did. This shirt is his absolute favorite; the first thing he bought himself after the boyfriend cast him off. 

It seems like someone other residents are also doing laundry in the basement of his building but he hasn’t seen any them yet. He just knows they are running several machines each and always off-time of his runs from the second floor to the basement. Seems that Harry’s laundry is coming along quickly enough. He decides to use the large tables for folding. Harry being a fan of fashion can’t help but notice the mixed gender baskets he sees that are clues about the clothing’s owners. On one table for folding there is a neat pile of items all neatly folded. They seem like a ‘his and hers’. There are some football clothes, jeans that seem very skinny, some boyish-jeans, asssorted shirts, some with scoop necks (a favorite of Harry’s) and some interesting panties. 

A little while later Harry is heading up to his floor with a finished load in a basket in hand. Harry is glad to have his prized Gucci shirt intack for wearing to Zayn’s party. A lad about his age exits a flat next door to Harry’s as Harry prepares to enter his. 

In an Irish accent the bloke with blond hair from a bad dye job greets Harry. 

“The new neighbor! Nice to finally meet you!” 

The lad seems very enthusiastic and sincere. Like Harry he has a laundry basket in hand too though his dirty stuff. He continues, “I see you’re doing the same. I always think I’m done them I find things everywhere, the dangers of the messy flatmate. I’m Niall, by the way. Niall Horan.” 

Harry sets down his things, Niall too. They shake hands as Harry gives Niall a short story of his history. Harry leaves out his bad boyfriend, broken heart stuff. He’d like a chance at acceptance without going into a downer subject. A little history from Niall unfolds too. Niall comments “they”, meaning the messy roommate and him, should have Harry over soon to get to know Harry better. This welcome to the neighborhoood kind of thing ends as they part, Harry going into his flat with clean clothes. Niall down to do more laundry. Not without Harry taking note that much of it is small, delicate, feminine. 

Harry is glad to meet a neighbor finally. Niall is appealing-looking, warm, friendly. Harry assumes that Niall is not gay, his roommates clothes hint this. 

*** 

Dressing for Zayn’s “intimate party”. 

The word “intimate” made this sound like a special invite. Harry’s spent the two days since invitation deciding what the implication means. All Harry has been able to decide is what to wear. A shear floral patterned Gucci shirt, dark jeans, his sparkle paddock boots. Lots of rings. Is this too much? 

Zayn...Zayn, who always smells Smokey but is so smolderingly hot Harry can’t care that Zayn seems bi and not a clue whether Zayn’s schews top or a bottom, or a shares that. 

Besides. It’s just maybe that when Harry asked his boyfriend to switch, or share, to let Harry top just once that the boyfriend turn off to Harry. 

Thinking about Zayn excites Harry. It’s been two weeks since classes started. He has made few friends. Mostly because he is devastedly heartbroken and doesn’t try to connect. 

This offer from Zayn is is huge...maybe his dick too? 

If not. Well? That new neighbor is Niall is cute. 

*** 

Zayn’s place is a bit more unique than Harry’s. This is to be expected. When they met it was because Harry had some classmates he was hoping to make inroads of friendship with and some of them were headed over to the art studios. It was early term calls for models. 

The “call for models” is a time in the first few weeks of the semester when students who weren’t shy could go signup for modeling for the art students. The big requirement being, nudity, frequently expected. Harry was drug along by some girls in one of his classes who wanted to get the easy money for baring their bodies for the art students to sketch. These girls who took Harry in hand to the art building were all very obviously sexually interested in Harry. Despite this was leading them on Harry is lonely enough that regardless of the danger of misleading assumptions of a pack of het-girls Harry decided to trail along.  

At the art school Harry spots the person he’s become friends with, another lad of great interest to so many women students, is student artist Zayn Malik. 

Smokey, sultry, moody yet kind Zayn. 

While Harry chooses to secretly walk his modeling application to the bin, declining to go for photos (nudes) as he waits for these girls to ply for their chance to model, make a little cash, Harry hangs around. 

Bored. Harry hopes this is better than going home to an empty apartment, or to maybe make some plans for drinks after his signup that he ditched with these girls. That’s when a bloke with way too much attitude, insane good looks, sculpted features comes up to Harry. This is how they meet; the lad grabs Harry by the arm, says his name is “Zayn”, drags Harry outside the campus art studios “to share a smoke”. 

Once outside, cirgartte lit, this Zayn presses Harry for “his story”....

Several days later Harry has an invite to an “intimate party” from Zayn. 

The distinctive thing about the invite that has Harry so spun up is circumstances of how the invite happened. 

Harry new better than to lead women on. Yet again he went to the art studio with some of the girls who were selected from the application day as models. Admittedly Harry has a small crush of Zayn. So he goes. They get there late. Some models are already placed, or posed, students already working on drawling. Harry’s female class friends who are late plead for Harry to “hang out”, “wait”. They clearly hope to go out after and maybe where down Harry’s persistence decline of their flirtations. 

Harry knows. What they hope is that if he waits around maybe he’ll see them undressed as they model. Maybe their bodies will influence him...if only they knew. 

Harry ended up waiting long enough for this Zayn to once again notice him, drag Harry outside. Try to get Harry to smoke. Ask a lot more questions. Unknowingly, Zayn’s friendliness and beauty appeal to a yearning Harry had. One to be with someone. Intimately. 

After some shy, noncommittal from Harry he and Zayn return to the floor of the art building where numerous models are posed unclothed for student artist to drawl. This now includes Harry’s female friends. Immediately upon his return he can feel their eyes as they seek his to meet theirs. True, they are not to move. Positioned by the artist they are assigned to they are to stay stationary until their artist tells them “break”. Nevertheless Harry feels the girls eyes on him so he makes it a point to sit off side and look only at his phone. It’s polite Afterall. 

Zayn’s comes around a little later again to Harry having put on a smock though the clothes he was wearing outside smoking were a mix of holes and paint more than fabric. 

“Arry, look got to get back to work but consider maybe coming to mine for an intimate party. Meet some new people. Might be your kinda fun. Better than these.” 

The comment of “these” comes with a head nod directed at Harry’s girl friends who are modeling. Leaving the meaning vague Zayn goes off to his station where his model was waiting apparently already posed, Zayn’s work already in process from an earlier session. 

“Alternate model”? Inquires an older man who appears to be the art studio director. 

“Alternate model?” Harry replies back confused. 

“Alternate model for Zayn Malik?” asks the professor again who appears to be confirming the reason for Harry’s hanging around in this open studio. This causes Harry to look up. He answers a “yes” because he doesn’t want to admit he is only waiting for his modeling girl friends. Lonely, Harry can’t take another quick dinner made at home by himself, eating in silence and dwell far too deeply alone dwelling on the status of his broken heart. 

Harry says “yes”, looks over to were Zayn is, naturally, and .... 

Harry really can’t be sure. 

Is that a familiar form? 

Zayn is drawling a nude male. The male model is hauntingly close to the smaller lad having sex the stall in the club when Harry was on his bender and abruptly encountered two lads. 

“Yes.” Harry confirms after an awkward pause because he isn’t sure his brain is working. Maybe his eyes are not either. He says “yes, alternate” again. He repeats his name. The prof verifies on a list he’s been added to, probably by Zayn, because Harry trashed his application when he came with the girls the first time to the studio during the selection process. 

The professor moves on. Harry looks back over to Zayn’s work area. 

The boy model. He’s very much the same as the small lad at the club. Harry can’t see his face. That’s actually okay because honestly Harry can only focus on what is familiar; an astounding, full arse. The perfect, even, honey-tone skin. 

There is more Harry can glean for this exposure too. This time the small, fit boy with a familiar bum is standing. Harry can really appreciate how the lad has a tiny waist compared to his bum. His thighs are fit, calves too. His back shows he bears no weight on his body that is not bone or muscle except his rather fat, delicious-looking bum. It has to be the same arse Harry saw in another lad’s hands where the sheer bounty of voluptuous, fullness overwhelmed the hands of his partner. 

Zayn is working at a spot that is not at all close to where Harry sits. He also has this model facing away from Harry’s point of view. Harry can only take in what he can from behind but it reveals how truly this boy is a prize. In the bright lights of the artist studio Harry sees that the boy’s medium brown hair has some natural chestnut or red highlights. It appears styled. His thinly muscular arms are at his side and though he is standing, from the back, he appears very relaxed. Harry can tell that he and Zayn are talking. Laughing with each other. 

This is the first time Harry thinks he’s felt something real stirring in his heart, excitement, since the boyfriend. Sure. The lad from Ireland, Niall, made Harry’s heart lighten slightly. Niall was very likeable. Cute. Appealingly so. 

Zayn? No doubt strikeingly gorgeous. Smolderingly so. 

The lad in the stall getting fucked into oblivious by the tiny powerbottom? Handsome, strong. Nice eyes before they drew anger for Harry’s envision. 

But the boy across the room? Are these two one and the same? 

Harry’s heart skips a beat. No. It starts again. 

***

Arriving to Zayn’s flat after a short walk from his Harry has decided to bring a bottle of liquor as to not arrive empty handed. He fears his Britishness is rusty having been in the States for two years and living with his very American boyfriend for most of it. What is an intimate party anyway? 

Zayn opens the door with a zealous reaction to welcome Harry with a hug while simultaneously pulling him inside, accepting the bottle with a thanks. 

The small apartment is mostly studio. In order to accommodate this the only furniture visible in the main room that is both kitchen and living room is a large dining table with chairs around it. All other furniture has been declined so there is room for Zayn’s work. His style of art is clearly different when it’s at his choice than the realistic style drawling Harry saw Zayn doing in the studio on campus when he was drawling the boy with the fat, round arse. 

Once inside three men stand who were seated at the table stand. Zayn introduces them to Harry. Yaser, Dalir, and Izad are his cousins. The three are at least a few years older than Zayn. Izad, the oldest, has a beard. In all of them Harry sees a similar family attractiveness although Zayn has by-far the most beauty comparably. 

After a brief review of what the cousins do, unlike Zayn they are all finished with college, established in their jobs. The talk turns to Harry. It’s hard for Harry to explain why he left Boston College when he had a scholarship and was pursuing studies in their best program to complete a degree in the lesser ranked program at London University. Harry does his best but the subject feels too close to something too painful. He gets the subject switched by commmenting that “Something smells very good!” 

The business of eating shift the conversation to safer avenues. What kind of food each of them likes best. Stories of meals gone bad they each have made, or had in travels. While they eat the have some beer. Zayn alerts Harry who considers another after finishing his first that they are going to play a game later but “not to worry it’s not a drinking game.” 

The cousins all laugh. This is the first indication that Harry has that this intimate party is just the five of them and not at all like Harry could have expected. 

“The restroom?”, Harry asks as they finish and Zayn clears the table for “a game”. 

“Down the hall. There’s only that and the bedroom. Other than a big storeage room with more of my much better art.” 

After a pee Harry starts to turn back to go to the main room but he’s curious about Zayn’s “much better art”. He pivots to peek at the storage which puts him walking past the bedroom. 

Snap. 

The bedroom is barely lit but enough. Enough to clearly see a body on the large four-post bed that consumes the small room. Ropes run from each post to the limbs of a body stretched four directions. The form is face down, naked, blindfolded, gagged and... 

...penetrated with a butt plug. He, Harry is sure it’s a he, is motionless. 

Harry is also sure he is the model. The bottom at the club. 

Zayn calls to Harry. This makes Harry jump. He comes back quickly and takes a seat at the table that is now clear of everything other than two bottles of liquor, five shot glasses and a game. 

The game appears to be a reconstruction of some other games along with some custom made cards. Harry sits in the open seat. He is hoping to hide that he is blushing. 

Zayn lights a cigarette. “See anything interesting?” 

The hard stare with the ask tells Harry that Zayn knows what Harry saw. 

Harry plays it cool. “You do such interesting work.” Harry’s answer comes with a gesture at the art scattered around the room. 

*** 

A few minutes later the game is in play. As the Malik’s assured him the idea of how to play is going to come to Harry with ease. They spin a dial on a flat, card board that was co-opted from the game Twister. It gives them a color and a symbol of hand or foot. Unlike in twister there are cards, the home made ones. Directed to take from the various piles of cards by this process they read a question. Whoever can answer it first gets a point. Those who don’t get a point put money on the table. 

Harry has a huge question. Well several. 

First, what is the bound boy doing here while they are casually playing a game. 

What is the object of the game? Does the winner get the money? 

Or would there be a reason connecting the boy to the questions which appear to be very very...what is the word? 

Every question that is read makes Harry’s brain flip. It’s shocking. He’s never heard of any game like this and Harry has played a number of adult games. 

“The perfect slut prefers when his top fucks him in what position?” Reads one question. That was apparently an easy one because everyone except Harry had it at the same time. 

“The perfect slut needs to be fucked how many times in one night before he stops demanding “Again”? 

Zayn has that one. “Five because he wants to know you fucked him again after he slept.” 

Harry hasn’t gotten a single answer in before the others because he isn’t fathoming how he got himself here. As the pile of cash grows in the center of the table he finall asks, curiosity about the bound boy deepening as the mound of money grows. The cash pile approaches the value of half a months rent and they are still playing. 

Harry asks. “How do we know when someone has won?” 

“The winner is decided when all but one yields with the loosers pockets cleaned out.” 

“And they keep all the cash? Why would you play a stupid game like this? Why not join in with no money to start?” 

The Malik’s laugh. They wink at each other. 

Zayn, several drinks in and slightly tipsy, pats Harrys arm. “Arreh, mate, no no no. You’re thinking the pot of cash is the prize. It’s not. It’s for the prize. The P R I Z E is in the bedroom. We give him the money after. One of us gets him for the night. Understand? I know you saw him. The slut in the game we are quizzed about is the person you saw back there. He’s been prepped, tied because he’s bad about waiting patiently. You can be in him as soon as the game is over, you just got know the value of what you play for.” 

“You’re playing for right to fuck a whore?” Harry says with offense. Oddly that he thinks their concept is offensive causes an offensive counter response. It’s seen in their eyes. Each Malik bears a look of slight anger at Harry’s dispute. 

“That’s no hired whore Harry. Don’t ever call him that. A slut, yes. A whore, no. He’s a prize Harry.” Zayn manages to say Harry with clarity for once which suggest his anger is real. “Had the idea that you were, well, not only gay but chill. We donate the money by choice. We don’t have to pay for it, we choose to.” 

Zayn stands up. “Last card Harry. It’s your turn. You’re the only one with money still to play. Read the card.” Zayn is telling Harry this while he’s undoing his pants. It is clear he knows he has the game won. A last question then he goes to the boy. 

“How many cocks does the slut handle simultaneously with ease?” 

Zayn is out of sight heading to his bedroom before Harry hears his answer of “Three” as Zayn’s cousins all nod in unison like they know that answer too. This a sign of their shared experience with the boy whose identity Harry only knows as “the slut”. 

The slut from the club. The model. The boy with the big fat arse and apparently a knack for handling dick 

***

Harry is still at Zayn’s despite a cooling off to him by the Maliks after he thought he was chastising the bound boy they payed for like the boy was a whore only to find there is something else going on. It’s acceptable vernacular that the boy is called a slut, but not a whore. Where the disparity is Harry can’t get his mind around. 

Okay so he’s into this slutty behavior, but the money doesn’t make him a whore. Or really not. 

No. Not. 

Not making sense. 

This conundrum is why as time passes Harry hangs on. He’s not included very genuinely by the Malik cousins any more. To an extent he thinks that they would rather see him choose to leave. Harry does not. Rather he goes to sit on the floor of the main room to takes a different view because at least there is interesting art everywhere should one chose to seek art out in the flat of Zayn Malik. 

Sat there on the floor between two upright standing stacks of art, back against a wall, drink in hand, Harry looks at a piece on the wall. To be honest had Harry not move to this place he would have not seen it because so much of Zayn’s flat is filled with art. Floor to ceiling on all walls it is art. At floor level it’s stacks of framed pieces neatly separated by shipping board to be ready for moving should Zayn have need to display them. 

But this piece. The one hung on the wall surrounded by many others... 

It’s of a young man. A nude. He’s standing such that his backside is primary view, but his body has a light twist so things become apparent other than his insanely full bum and his tiny waist. The painting shows his sculpted shoulders, his neck, his face is turned like he’s looking over his shoulder but it’s hard to make all his features out because he’s got a blind fold over his eyes. 

It’s the blindfold that makes Harry realize the lad also has his wrist bound with a scarf. 

The sight of this image sends a pain to Harry’s brain like he’s been hit by a blade straight through his skull. With this Harry gets up. He briskly walks past the Malik cousins setting down his glass firmly like a declaration as he strides down the hall to the bathroom. 

Once he’s in the bathroom Harry is sure that Zayn’s cousins understood his unspoken meaning. He knows they have quieted because they are aware of Harry’s attitude. 

Harry chooses to take a long, long time. Let them drift from listening for him to open the door. 

Meanwhile from the bathroom, close to Zayn’s bedroom, Harry can easily hear them. Zayn and the “slut”.

They are talking. Voices are muted so Harry is not making out words just the general perception that they are in quiet conversation. Once Harry finishes his business he can’t resist the lure. Sure enough through the open door Harry discovers that the two are not engaged in sex. At least not at the moment. Zayn is laying on his back smoking a cigarette. The slut is no longer bound. He is sitting on Zayn, straddling him. There is no bondage, no blindfold. The ties are laying around on the floor while they talk as if there was never any thing unusual. 

“You ready then?” The slut asks. His voice is distinct. It wouldn’t be one Harry would ever forget having heard it now. 

Zayn blows some smoke then moves like he’s put the cigarette to the slut’s mouth. 

“Help me finish this. I like the way your mouth looks when you exhale smoke.” Zayn’s says. 

Harry watches as the slut takes the cigarette in what is a delicate looking hand and proceeds to smoke it making sure to take a number of drags off it like to burn it down fast. He must also being blowing the puffs deliberately to honor Zayn’s request. 

“Like this?” 

“Yes,” Zayn says. “It’s almost as much a turn on as the sight of your mouth sucking my dick.” 

The slut bends down to do what appears to be blow some smoke into Zayn’s mouth before saying “And now your ready again?” 

Zayn rolls the slut off him, sadly so he goes face down, identity eludes Harry again. The slut giggles and seems to allow Zayn to put him just so to Zayn’s liking. Once Zayn places him down on the bed he parts legs just ever so slight he starts to slide himself in. 

The lack of prep before doing this confirms that “again” means that Zayn has been dicking this lad before the shared smoke. Zayn describes his pleasure sliding in with a contented sigh followed with “So good you, so good.” 

The bottom appears to have taken Zayn with ease, perhaps tilting his pelvis to help with this first penetration. 

Clarifying his acceptance Harry hears him spur Zayn on. “Gonna fuck me proper hard this time or make me do all the work again?” 

The sass is met with a slap to his arse as Zayn gets to “properly dicking” the lad under him. “Want me to pound you like this?” Zayn says with some strain to making the words as his pace gets rapid and hard making the slapping sound of someone taking their frustration out with force. 

Under Zayn the slut’s muffled demand, “Harder, harder, H A R D E R!” 

Harry sees how Zayn’s butt clenches with each push to bottom in the body he’s pounding and yet his slutty partner wants it more. Zayn grabs the boy by his hair taking a handful by gripping it on the top where the mass is most full and longest. Pulling his partner’s head back he’s forced the boy into a backward arch that is not only an acceptionally beautiful exhibition of the slut’s made-for sex-shape, but also perhaps making Zayn’s penetrations decisively effective for the bottom’s pleasure. 

The slut begins loudly panting and demanding with “yeses”, “ohs”, “harders”, “mores” thrown in between breaths. 

Zayn’s backside is visibly changed in its hue, more red with exertion. The dim light also reveals Zayn is sweating. While keeping one hand firmly holding onto his bottom’s hair he adds some fairly hard slaps to the lad’s arse that follow with a sweeping hand feeling over the bottom’s body. It seems inevitable that Zayn will come soon as he delivers thrust after thrust with as much force as he can. 

“You gonna come? Huh? Come for me? Hum, come on baby, come on, let me milk that cum outta you.” Zayn says as he makes what comes to be his final trust. Harry’s perspective suggests he’s nailed bottom with a decision to stay buried there the hand that was slapping the bottom goes under his partner’s form, probably to grasp the lad’s prick. 

To be certain Zayn has succeded in bringing the boy to orgasm. Loudly. Even Zayn’s cousins must be able to hear the shout as the bottom makes no effort to be silent. 

Zayn pulls back at the first break that the loud signaling is waning. Zayn’s retraction comes with his hands going to the still slightly lifted bum whose cheeks he parts. The sight of white gelatinous fluid beginning to ooze from the slut’s gapping hole is well framed between Zayn’s hands. He licks some from the area surrounding the hole. 

“Have we got you there or does my little slut need more dick?” 

The slut has his face down into the bed under him. With his arms beside his head to allow his support to stay with his pelvis maintaining his presented position, he mumbles. 

“What baby?” Zayn says making the first indication of something almost sweet about the reference to the slut. “Wanna hear you ask.” 

Cum is still being extruded from his body as the bottom lift his face from the bed. “More. More please.” 

Zayn releases his hands fromtheir spread of the full bottom. He pets the arse where he has laid many a hard slaps. Sweetly he speaks. “Sure baby. Who do you want?” 

“Dalir. Dalir please.” The slut says with his distinctive voice sounding a little shattered from the dicking. 

“Of course you do!” Zayn says with a chuckle as he kisses softly one cheek. “Want the big dick now that I’ve made you a mess. Make Dalir fuck my cum out of you and dump his load in its place. Maybe make you a little sore from the size of him. Fat arse and small hole mighty nice for Dalir.” 

Harry snaps out of his vourism trance. He skirts up the hallway to the main room. There he is met with knowing smiles of the Malik cousins. He looks only at Dalir knowing that that is the cousin who has gotten an invite. An invite because he apparently has the biggest cock. Harry doesn’t even blush at being unspokenly called out for having the gall to watch the two having sex. Harry only wants to strike out at Dalir even though Harry has no rights here. The boy is not his to feel protective over. Harry still hasn’t even seen his face. What color are his eyes? What does his mouth look like? His nose? None of it matters though in his wish to defend this bottom. Harry feels anger...and jealousy? 

Harry’s staredown of Dalir stops when Zayn walks out. Zayn is not shamed enough to even have considered putting on some clothing. He just strides out with his satiated cock hanging freely. He sees Harry, says nothing to him, goes to the refrigerator to get a beer saying “You’re up” to Dalir. 

Dalir gets praising slaps from Yaser and Izad as he bolts out of the main room. 

Zayn lights a cigarette before beginning to lecture Harry. 

“You know Harry, I didn’t know you went to the US to go to Boy Scouts. I thought you said Boston College. Better be a good boy and get on home to bed before your mum finds out you are out with the big boys.” 

*** 

It’s laundry day again. Harry is heading down to the basement with his basket full of dirty clothes. He should be doing more schoolwork instead of laundry but he can’t. Everytime Harry sits to do work he finds it too easy to think about the party at Zayn’s. Or the thing at the club. He has not been back to the art studio despite the girls he’s become friends with persistently inviting him and being an official “alternate model” because he can’t imagine Zayn wants to see him after the other night. 

That, and Harry knows he would only be going there because he only wants to see the boy slut. Finally maybe see the face of the slut. It’s a desire that been consuming him more and more everyday. 

Walking along the corridor to the laundry Harry passes the series of windows in the hall that are between the hall and the roomy laundry. The wall of windows makes the basement laundry room seem less confined. It’s along that row of four large windows that the row of tables for folding are positioned. 

Harry is stoped in his tracts by what he sees as he approaches. It causes him to drop his basket. His mouth gapes. 

Niall is there. Niall, the neighbor who Harry has seen everyday as they pass coming and going. Niall who Harry is sure is straight. 

Yet there Niall is, pants down, dick diving into a fellow lad who is laying face up on one of the tables for folding laundry. The lad has his head resting on the window so he can fit such that his bum is just at table’s edge which gives Niall ease to stand there and drive his trusts into the bottom. Niall has the bottom’s legs spread; one is parted to the side but another is raised up, where it is supported against Niall’s shoulder with a hand holding the leg to keep it from slipping. 

This position Harry knows will give the top so much greater access for penetrating deep. It appears this is the case. Harry can tell from how the bottom has his hands on the edge of the table gripping it to maintain his body innplace with his entrance positioned perfectly at the table edge like if one wants their body to take full force of the pounding. 

And pounding Niall is. 

The Irish lad is flushed, sweat on his forehead, he’s fucking fast and hard. Probably Niall has been at this for sometime too because Harry can see the bottom is very aroused like his prostrate is getting properly struck. His cock is posting, beading of cum is becoming more and more prevalent. 

From where Harry stopped he’s far enough from directly aligned with them to just take in these things and yet not see the lad Niall is dicking despite that he’s facing up. Harry’s eyes tell him Niall is desperately chasing his building need to release. Harry’s ears tell him he’s seen this bottom before. 

Twice. 

It’s the slut. From the club. From the intimate party. Now bottoming for Niall in the basement of Harry’s building in what is a semi-public space. Has this slut no shame? 

He’s getting louder and louder. A script Harry’s heard before, or very similar. Demands for harder, more and then the lad is shooting his wad. It hits Niall’s chin, Niall’s cheek, his hair. 

Niall has the preserve to stay with fucking his bottom through the orgasm. He stays true to the cue when to finally stop. As soon as he gets that confirmation he jerks away. His hand directs his cock to spray his jizz on his bottom whose hand meets his there to softly stabilize Naill’s hold on his hard, hot worked member. 

No sooner than Niall is done than he pulls his bottom up so the sat upright boy and he have a hold of each other. Niall is kissing his boy on the shoulder, speaking though what he says Harry can’t hear. Harry has a second complete confirmation that the lad having a post ejacuation cuddle with Niall is The Slut. It’s impossible to not recognize that back, bottom not in view or not. 

Harry realizes that as Niall is looking over the shoulder of his partner while lays down what look like tiny, soft kisses that Niall’s fuzzy is most likely clearing. It occurs to Harry that he might get spotted by Naill even though he is not directly in view out the window the boy was resting his head against. Deciding not to reclaim his spilled basket of laundry Harry runs away before he can be seen. 

***

Several hours later there is a knock at Harry’s door. He opens it.

Niall.

Niall with a basket of clean folded laundry. Harry’s laundry.

“Mate!” Niall exclaims as he strides into the flat like he’s is invited. Setting it down. Niall smiles warmly at Harry with a causal ease. “Was doing my wash and I found these in the hall. Didn’t take me long to know who dropped them in the hall of the basement. Figured if you had to leave your basket of fancy, designer clothes that something shocking happened. You okay mate? I washed them for you.”

“M’okay, thanks.” Harry says. He avoids eye contact. He’s just now noticing Niall’s behavior isn’t its normal causal, gregariousness.

“Sure. You’re welcome. You sure though that you’re okay? Didn’t run into a ghost down there or s o m e t h i n g, d i d you?”

The way Niall stretched out the end of the sentence tells it all. Niall knows that Harry knows Niall was having gay sex in the public laundry facility of their building. 

“No. No ghosts. Oh but I did get an important call and my phone kept dropping connection. Actually just got that wrapped up with that. Very important. Very...”

The voice in Harry’s head says it doesn’t do lies. The Bad Boyfirend did lies. Lots of lies. Thousands. With seamless perfection. Not Harry. 

“Just wrapped it up? Mate, it’s been hours! I did all our laundry and the entire time you were on the phone. You sure everything is okay, really?”

Niall’s concern is genuine. He seems to be believing Harry. Harry hates himself for the deception. Even more than that Harry wants to know the story. Who is The Slut? How could Harry wrongfully tag Niall as straight? 

“Yes really. Hey Niall. We haven’t really gotten to know each other. I moved in, classes got busy. Wanna hang? I got some beer in the frig, game is on soon.”

Niall smiles. His face shows his normal ease is back. His suspicions that the ghost Harry saw was him and The Slut fuck8 g has passed. “Sure! No self-respecting Irishman will pass on a pint and watching football. Though I’m more a golfer. My roommate though. Lives football, or lives for doing footballers. Such a slut.”

Harry goes to get them beers. He brings some cheeses, crackers, little salamis. Setting them down Harry asks. “Never met you roommate. So far all I know is that your roommate has some clothes that are...interesting. And likes sex with footballers or so you’ve just said. Not a good picture.”

“Okay. So just over five foot six, thin but curvy. Blue eyes. Brown hair. Pretty. Dangerous pretty. Makes men crazy. Best Booty on the planet.”

“Hum. Bad roommate? You seem to do the laundry. Both of yours.”

“No, great roommate. Great! Very sweet. Kind. Funny. Someone it’s kinda fun to just sit and watch what they are like. Has two jobs and courses that why you haven’t met. Home now though.”

Harry jumps to his feet. “Great, lets go next door, love to meet her.”

Niall jumps too. He looks lost to what to say for a second. Stops Harry from an exit then studders to explain. “N-n-no No! Slutty remember? Several boyfriends, one is there now. I bet if you put a glass up against the back wall of your bedroom and our flat you can hear them. Or at least the head board hitting the wall. It’s Liam today. How Liam doesn’t drive that massive dick of his through internal organs is beyond me. Not now. Some other time.”

Harry sits. Liam. He has a potential name now for the dark haired top who had The Slut sat on his dick. It’s stuck in Harry’s head. The lad being ridden had an impressive girth and length. 

“Liam? I think there is a Liam on one of my classes. Built, but not like heavy, but all muscle. Good looking. Trimmed beard, short brown hair, brown eyes.”

“Puppy brown eyes? That sounds like this Liam. He’s a boxer and a runner. Studying to be a physical trainer. Aren’t you in pre-law? Don’t think you and Liam would cross paths. He does work at the club down the street though. Might have seen met him there.” 

Harry nods, “Must be a diffent Liam then.”

***

The hours tick by. Niall leaves. Harry has an idea Niall was watching the time. Once he’s gone back over to his Harry looks out the window to the street below where a couple is walking.

It’s Liam from the club that Harry sees with his hand holding that of another.

The Liam goes to his car. Like a gentleman he gets the door for his companion open first. He stops with it open and uses the hand he holds in his to pull his companion to him. Pressed together for a minute he kisses the...

Beanie on head doesn’t hide the hair. Fringe, caramel-brown colored fringe pokes out. The soft looking hoody seems too big, it hangs off the small form. During the kiss Liam’s hand goes to the bum. First it slides inside the trackers like to feel bare flesh. Then it comes out and squeezes an ample, round booty before a pat that is almost a slap is made just as he ends the kiss and sends the prize he’s just kissed to the awaiting empty passenger seat.

The Prize. The Slut. The Neighbor. The Mystery.

***

Harry spends the next several days finding random reasons to knock on Niall’s door. He has done this so many times that he’s running out of excuses that are creative, if not overtly unimaginative. He’s already learned from the building superintendent that the name of lad’s in the flat next door to his are Niall Horan and Louis Tomlinson. So Harry a least has a named the mystery boy who he wants to think is more than some slut. A name alone doesn’t change the fact that everytime Harry hears someone is home next door it’s not been this Louis. It seems that the two jobs and courses must be keeping Louis very busy. The only good thing about Harry’s persistence is that Niall gave Harry an exciting invite.

It was Harry’s sixth and most lame excuse to knock on his neighbor’s door ( “Do you have any room freshener? I just burnt toast and someone might come by.”) 

Desperate to put a face to the body, Harry knows he sounds ridiculous but it pays off. Niall laughs, shakes his head at Harry and says “We are having a party Friday,” 

Harry jumps in, cuts him off, “Yes! I’d love to come!” 

Presumptive as Harry is, Niall laughs at him again and is unflappably kind. 

“Okay, great. I’m telling people party at 8 which means they will show up at 9 or 10. You should come early. Help me get food ready. I can’t trust my roommate the in the kitchen. Something always gets burned, not just toast. Come in and I’ll see if we have any air freshener.” 

Niall is back quickly to Harry with a scented candle. “This is all I could find. Air freshener, hum? Are you expecting a girl? Or your mum?” 

“Neither. Gay. Not into girls. Not that way. I mean I like women. My mum is one. My sister.” 

“So the pretty girl I saw in the picture beside your tv is your sister? The one with the pretty brown eyes? Long brown hair, sister?” 

“Yes. Gemma. That my older sister Gemma.” Harry is curious. So after clarifying who Gemma is to him he fishes. “She lives in London. Want me to bring her? She likes an Irish accent.” 

“Sure. Sorry to pry Harry. It’s just I see you on campus with a pack of pretty girls between classes. Assumed...” 

“No worries, Niall. See you Friday.” 

Niall snorts. “Right.unless you have a cotton ball emergency, or need thread, what was it that one time? Detangler? Really. You find the weirdest things to need right out of the blue.” 

Harry shrugs. He may have blushed. 

This is why following the invite whenever he hears someone coming and going from the flat next door he does not peak out. Nor does he think of excuses to go knock if he knows someone is home. 

He does go by the art studio. Once at the studio he’s disappointed to see Zayn’s station is void of anything other than a finished piece. It’s impressive, he stares. Around the expansive room many students are still working. A few like Zayn are finished so there are fewer models and artists at work. 

The professor spots Harry standing there staring at Zayn’s work. “Mr Styles, did Mr Malik negelect to tell you he’s done. You don’t need to continue coming. Thank you for willing to model, if you like I’ll keep your contact information. If we need you in the future I can let you know.” 

Harry keeps staring at the detailed reproduction of the model. Zayn has made every detail to exquisite right down to capturing the shading to perfection with things like the divots on Louis’ backside on his pelvis. 

“Sure, thanks. Actually, I was wondering. I think I know the model for Zayn’s piece. Is this Louis Tomlinson?” 

The professor studies Harry. Was it a bad question? 

“Mr Styles when we have models willing to expose themselves like they do we don’t disclose their identity. That’s why Mr Malik chose to position his model facing away. Other artists are opting for diffent strategies to hide their model’s identity. A Marti Gras mask hiding their face, hands over their face, whatever. If you were to model you will be protected too. This is what we do. I can’t tell you who the model for Mr Malik was. Have a good day.” 

Harry tried not to feel like the professor suggested he leave, but he did. Samantha, one of his friends who was modeling, is finished early as her student artist only need to confirm a small detail. While walking out of the building she catches up with Harry. Of all the girls Harry has made friends with he would pick her to date if her weren’t gay. She’s kind. Funny. Easy to laugh at his stupid jokes that aren’t even jokes. 

“Harry! Hey, wait!” 

Taking his arm Samantha rambles on about she’s glad to be done. Likes the easy money. Hopes her artist makes a good grade. “...because the best artists get to pick models first. So if my artist does well, it elevates my ranking in some way. Everyone who does this all wants to be Zayn Malik’s model. Fat chance of that happening.” 

Having an opening landing in Harry’s lap is unbelievably fortunate. 

“What do you mean? I was thinking I know the model but I never saw his face. Is the model he used for this assignment one Zayn uses a lot?” 

“Oh Louis? Yes. Yes. He uses Louis all the time. Who wouldn’t. I have to say, it’s ashame that this time faces are not to be revealed in this assignment because honestly Louis has a perfect figure, but as you know, his facial features are entirely too pretty to hide. And every inch of his body. Do you have any idea how many times we women models look in envy at his perfect bum almost as much as we envy his lush eyelashes. We joke all the time that it is a crime that that bum is waisted on a boy! We talk about that a lot. We actually joke about how his bum must easily bounce when slapped because it’s so posh. And then he has that tiny waist, thighs that make anyone drool. If he wasn’t so nice it would be easy to hate him for perfection. I mean he is really sincerely nice too. You know he also works at the faculty daycare some mornings and is remarkable with kids. Babies fall in love with him. It’s a fact. My friend Stacey works for a professor who is divorced and single parenting twins. The professor makes Stacey pick up her twins if it’s a day Louis works because the fourteen month old twins cry when they have to leave daycare because they are fascinated by Louis. There father doesn’t want to be the bad-guy and make the twins leave Louis, hilarious.” 

After that Samantha continues talking about anything and everything. Harry nods, says “um, hum”, or whatever to pretend to be listening to her chatter about a series of other non-Louis subjects. His mind is only on one thing. What Niall has said, what Samantha has said, even the things that the Malik cousins said. All these comments paint a picture as much as the artist’s hand. 

This Louis. He’s an enigma. 

*** 

Harry gets home and before he’s got more than a foot from his front door closed behind himself he hears noisy traffic in the hall. 

There are some thumps and bumps. Voices. Tension in the voices. 

Opening his door only the slightest bit he sees two people at Niall and Louis’ door. 

One is a large bloke, 6’4 at least. Muscular. Sleeves rolled up on his tee to emphasize his biceps. At the door between him and the door is a small lad. Paper bag full of groceries in one arm. 

It’s Louis! 

The larger bloke has a hand on Louis’ jaw, the other has one of Louis’ wrists gripped in a raised position pinning the one limb above Louis’ beanie-clad head. This pinning makes holding onto the bag of groceries precarious, the bag tips ever so slight. 

“Give me the keys, let me in for some, you don’t want to be like this, bitch!” 

Louis clasps his keys firmer. 

“No, and I’m not your bitch, let go or...” 

“Or what? What happens on Saturday when is time for more drugs? Wanna go without?” 

“I’ll have the money for them. I a l w a y s have the money, get off of me!” 

The large bloke pulls Louis key-holding hand away from the wall only too slam it back against the wall again making a loud wack-sound. It’s effective. Louis drops the keys. The bloke releases Louis’ hand. While keeping Louis pinned in place his mouth assaults a resistant Louis. There is a whining sound from Louis that isn’t like a lover’s whine as he is forcefully kissed. 

Harry jumps into action. “Hey! What the hell is this!” 

The surpise makes the aggressor back away from Louis. 

“What is this? What is this! Who the hell are you?” 

Harry does his best to stand his full 6’1. He knows this guy has an advantage over him on weight and stature. 

“Neighbor. A neighbor, I got a feeling you’re not wanted here. I suggest you go before I call...” 

The man laughs. “Welcome to the neighborhood. Wouldn’t want a disturbance. Besides, his arse will be mine soon enough. I can wait, neighbor, wait a few days for it.” 

Harry feels the tension level off. He’s taking a step back like the potential threat of things coming to fists is done when the man makes one last quick turn to strike Louis squarely across the face sending Louis back into the wall. Louis gives a small shriek, spills the groceries as his hands go to his face. 

Walking deliberately hard to knock his shoulder into Harry the man leaves saying only to Louis “Saturday bitch. Saturday.” 

Harry is left stunned for a second but seeing Louis has dropped to the floor. He’s scrambling to pick up things that have rolled off only to carelessly toss them back into the bag as hastily as he can. 

Louis is grabbing for a wayward orange when Harry does the same. Their hands touch. Harry realizes the hand was the key holding hand. It’s already developing into a serious looking bruise. His cheekbone is the same and his lower lip is bleeding like he bit it or something when he was struck. 

The hasty reclaiming of groceries gives Harry the feeling that Louis is grasping for something other than just the assorted goods. When their eyes meet, Harry having said “Here, let me help you with this,” he is met with a Louis whose blue eyes meet his for the first time. And Louis has tears in his eyes. 

His eyes are so undefinably blue they halt Harry’s breath. It takes him a second or two before he can think. “Hi, I’m Harry by the way, your new neighbor, I don’t think we’ve met.” 

Louis has a slight look of fear as he continues to fight tears. “M’ Louis...that was, it was...that wasn’t what you think.” 

Having the sloppily refilled, Harry stands, picks the bag up but with it shifted to one of his arms he offers Louis, whose still kneeling on the floor like the incident took something out of him, a hand. “Here, lets get these safely into your flat.” 

Louis accepts his help. Their hands touching makes Harry feel strong; Louis’ is more delicate than Harry can imagine a lad’s should be. It reveals with tiny trembles what an inset the incident was. 

Once in the flat Louis rushes to the back of the flat where bedrooms are. It’s a few minutes before he is back. While he was gone Harry took the liberty to put some things away as best he could. 

“Thank you Harry.” distinctive voice says. “Thank you for that. Out there.” 

Harry doesn’t want to ask, it’s not his business. It that a drug dealer that Louis has been buying from? 

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to finally meet you. Your roommate has told me a little about you but nothing specific. You’re at Uni, right?” 

“Yes.” Louis says. He answers with no extra detail just a ‘yes’. The way Louis remains across the room from Harry sort of nervously shifting around, his eyes directed down while his hands pull at his sleeves is body language for what he feels. Embarrassed. 

Harry gets some ice and wraps it in a kitchen towel. Going to Louis across the room he feels like Louis almost wants to run back into the bedroom of the flat rather than stand his ground as Harry approaches. When Harry gets to him those blue eyes flash a look. Trepidation. 

Harry tries to speak softly. “Can we put some ice on that?” 

The gentle tone defuses the look of apprehension Louis bore. 

“I don’t have a drug problem.” Louis offers as he allows Harry to carefully lay the cool pack against his face. 

The face is as Samantha suggested. Pretty. Far too pretty to be hidden. His eyelashes are also as she described. To be envied. It’s not only that. His eyebrows give him a look of a pixie particularly that they and the lashes put his big blue eyes in a frame like he’s a human incarnation of a fictional creature. But then there’s his perky nose, his pink lips, his sculpted jawline and, oh right, these cheekbones that have a chiseled perfection even the one bearing a red mark. 

Harry has to resist the urge he has to kiss those lips as he holds the ice pack in one hand against the bruise while his other hand test on the opposite shoulder like to stablize Louis. He can feel how refined Louis is built by having a hand there. How can any boy be built like this? 

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Harry lies hoping it’s believable. 

A minute later melting starts so Harry pulls the pack off. He’s about to remake it when Niall burst into the flat saying, “Sorry, sorry so late...” He's taken by surprise to see Harry until more of an actual affront he spots Louis’ bruise. “Louis! He got to you! Fuck me, I’m so sorry!” 

Niall has no hesitation to take over where Harry was. He gathers Louis to him then taking him to the couch giving Harry instructions. “Harry there’s a bag of frozen peas in the freezer. Get a dry towel and the peas.” On reflection Niall adds one more request. He asks Harry to make tea. With the bag of peas acting as a softer ice pack than the dripping hard towel-wrapped ice Niall goes on to explain himself to Louis. 

“It wasn’t supposed to take that long. The project is becoming more and more all mine to do because the others keep missing deadlines. I was just about to leave to meet up with you when Peter showed up with the piece he made so we had to try it with the mother board. It’s a massive headache working with these jerks. I’m so sorry though. He was waiting for you.” 

Louis tucks himself into Niall. He moves the peas from his face to his hand. “If it hadn’t been for Harry that would have been bad. Harry is my hero.” 

Niall looks over the boy cuddled into him to meet Harry’s notice. He winks at Harry as he states his view. “Hero? More like pain inthe arse, he’s always knocking on our door to borrow or request something. He’s like a pac rat. I think eventually everything that is in our flat will end up over at his.” 

Harry sips a taste of tea to see if the leaves need more time to seep in the water he’s heated. Louis giggles, staying tight to Niall, whispering, “So why didn’t you tell me the new neighbor is so gorgeous?” 

Harry hears that. 

“I think you know why Louis. Don’t you think you have enough men?” 

Implication? Enigma Louis. Somehow still only a cockslut? 

***

One knock and the door opens like someone was waiting right there. It’s Louis. He’s grabs Harry’s hands and pulls him in. “Niall our gorgeous new neighbor is here!” 

Louis takes the license to peck Harry’s cheek with a kiss. He does this with a brief lift to tip-toes and the odd familiarity to do this makes Harry feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

Harry is welcomed by a kitchen bound Niall, “Harry, mate, great your here! Any chance you like to help me cook? Louis is a disaster in the kitchen so I’m counting on you mate!” 

Harry can’t begin to barely start to say how much he loves being in the kitchen, he grew up cooking with his mum teaching him as he outgrew his Easy-Bake Oven too fast. The reason he can’t help Niall immediatley is that Louis pulls him again, while grinning at Harry, a gleam in his eyes, none of the caution held over from their first meeting in the hallway. 

“Niall, where are your manners? A tour for our guest of our flat first.” 

“Louis, really? Tour? His flat is next to ours. A one bedroom mirror of this floor plan, I think he knows what ours looks like. You’re just hoping to collect another pawn. Stop being such a cock-slut and leave Harry be.” 

Louis makes a face at Niall before tuning to Harry his smile warming to Harry. “Quick tour?” 

Kitchen-bound Niall can only call after them as Louis pulls Harry toward the back rooms. He shows Harry the bedroom that Niall occupies. It’s clear Niall is into golf. Then his is shown next with Niall reminding him no closed bedroom doors. Footballers are pictured in posters on the walls. Clearly Louis really likes the look of one Serbian soccer star and Beckham because the two athletes are in numberous large posters around the room. Niall comes down the hall with a booming voice to interrupt as just as Harry realizes that Louis was moving him into this private space with intent. 

“Louis. Louis. You don’t need to add to your collection. You’re fine. Now leave Harry be. He’s not into you.” 

“Okay fine. Drag him off to the kitchen if you wish.” Louis says with a playful disregard. Harry thinks he even catches Louis making yet another epic face at Niall as Niall turns away. 

Naill leads. Harry follows but as they go up the hall a delicate hand finds Harry’s as Harry is about passing the open bathroom. Without Niall noticing, Louis pulls Harry into the room, closing the door and turning the lock. By the time Niall realizes this Louis is on tippy toes pressing Harry back into the door placing a wonderfully warm, tender, but curious kiss on Harry’s lips. It’s something different than Harry has ever known. Such perfect pressure, a suggestion of tongue but no invasiveness. A question. It says “I like you. Do you like me?” 

Harry would surely respond more if not for the vibration of pounding and corresponding scolding from the other side of the door which puts a hard stop on this. 

Niall shouts. “LOUIS! No, bad, bad, Bad Louis. Open this door right now or you are in serious trouble. Right now, I said. Before I make Zayn and Liam deal with your wicked arse. Stop toying with the new neighbor. YOU HAVE ENOUGH!” 

... 

Niall didn’t say the party was going to be an “intimate” one. While he and Harry were working together making food it occurs to Harry there is a lot of different types of dishes along with the Irishstew but not anything in huge quantity. Then the other guests arrive. Zayn, who Harry is delighted to see, and Liam.

The reason Harry is glad to see Zayn is that he hopes the odd nature of his departure from Zayn’s can be smoothed over while Liam...well Liam. Once they are introduced Liam tells Harry that he has a distinct feeling they’ve met before. Harry denies it. Harry only hopes that it doesn’t come to Liam that when he was in a stall of the men’s room at a busy dance club being ridden by Louis for everything he’s worth when it was who Harry tried to enter the same stall. Fortunately Liam seems to give up easily trying to place Harry.

As they enjoy the delicious food “game night” gets mentioned. Harry is sure he’s now been clued into why this party is so small.

Intimate. Games.This can only mean one thing. Like at Zayn’s “the slut” that binds these three together is getting fucked tonight.

As they clear the table for playing a game Harry mentions he left all his cash over at his. They say no worries, it’s just a fun, casual game. There is no money on the table. 

There’s another difference. This time Louis sits with them to play the game too. Also, this time the game turns out to be only cards, not t h a t game. Louis keeps cheating, or so the others complain, but all things said it remains a harmless, innocent game, only pride is on the line. No cash. No sex. 

Harry’s mixed emotions about this. A small part of him was wanting it to go the other way, or maybe not a s m a l l part of him as his dick seems constantly to be on “alert setting”. He’s been kissed by this lad Louis and it felt right; the only thing feeling right since his heart was crushed badly by his ex. Once it is clear they aren’t playing for a go at Louis’ plump bum the hopefulness that developed a stiffening in Harry’s pants wanes. Harry rather enjoys Louis laugh. The way he puts his hand over his mouth as he does so. 

Later as they sit around on the couches and comfy chairs causally talking Harry learns more about Liam, how they all know each other, with many questions to Harry about his time in the States. Harry tries to stay away from the subject of his bad boyfriend. 

It remains a curiousity for Harry how Liam, Naill and Zayn share this strange relationship with Louis. Harry studies tiny details of each lad’s specific interactions with the pixie.

Louis had begun the post game socializing by sitting in Liam’s lap. The idea Harry got from observing them is that this is a deliberate attempt by Louis to torment Liam. Louis didn’t need to sit in his lap, wiggle occasionally complaining about getting comfortable, his fingers occasionally stroking Liam’s neck such that even just the sight of the delicate tickles made Harry feel slightly aroused for desire of that touch on his own skin. Eventually Liam boots Louis off his lap. Calls him a pest. Tells him to go harass someone else. 

Zayn becomes the next target. As Zayn tries to get Louis to smoke with him. Harry wonders if the point of Louis is going from lad to lad in order of his preference based of dick size. Or fucking style. 

“Z,” Niall chides, “stop pushing him to smoke. It’s a nasty habit and not one Louis needs to start.”

Zayn’s hands gesture with a “What?” He has a Louis who is sitting with his back up against the arm of the couch while Zayn is sat in the center of the couch so Louis is able to put his legs over Zayn’s lap. It is a less overt lap-position than with Liam yet somehow it’s own suggestiveness is clear. Sat like this Zayn is passing the cigarette to Louis who is taking a drag then passing it back. Harry remembers watching how they’ve shared a cigarette before, it being a sensual thing with them, and so this scene is seductive.

Zayn defends his actions. “I’ll have you know I’m doing research Niall.”

Niall snorts. “Sure. Research. You’re an art student. How is that research?”

“Our next assignment is to do a piece that features one feature of a person’s face and an object. So my first thought was a mouth. A sensual mouth. So I thought of Louis. And then, naturally I thought knowing Louis like I do the object should be a dick but don’t think the grade would be too good with that. So this, Louis’ mouth and a cigarette is my backup. See Niall. Iam doing research. I am trying to work out the smoke, how to add the smoke to get the effect I like. So you see this is important r e s e a r c h.”

Zayn seems proud of himself. 

Once more Louis returns the cigarette to Zayn. This time by placing it between Zayn’s lips for Zayn like he’s likely done a thousand times before with his fingers lingering a little longer than needed. As he does this the sensuality of Louis’ delicate fingers at Zayn’s lips makes Harry’s yearn for yet another arousal-inducing scene. 

“Oh but Zayn,” Louis pipes, “you would be foolish to not go with Harry for the mouth model. He has the most sensual lips, the shape of them, their fullness, the way they have those dimples framing them! Their berry color! People would sit look at a painting that mouth all day, wonder what those lips felt like.”

Louis winks at him. Harry blushes. What a flirt.

The party winds down when conversation gets interrupted with more and more and longer and longer pauses between comments. This happens not until Louis has already moved to sit by Niall. Niall, whom Louis chose to sit with in an innocent cuddle much like he’d done the day that Harry came to Louis’ aid in the hall, where once sat Louis kind of drifts off to sleep. His participation subtracted by his sleepiness is the unspoken signal that the party is over.

Leaving the flat with Zayn and Liam, Harry dismisses one last time as they part in the hall, the question from Liam that he and Harry have seen each other somewhere else before. 

“Are you sure?” Liam asks one last time. “Like Louis said, you’ve got a face that is sort of memorable.”

***

Memorable. Maybe it the cigarette thing was too much. Harry wakes middle of the night with a raging erection. It’s the first time he’s had this happen since his heart was eviserated by his ex. 

He flips the covers away and takes his cock in hand. He hasn’t got any lube but a lotion is beside so he begins to slather himself so this isn’t a dry wank. Harry keeps his eyes closed through this because even in the dark this helps him see the image he’s creating.

Those lips. 

Thinner than his own. 

A pale shade of pink compared to his “berry” as Louis described them. 

Harry fantasizes about Louis’ lips praying like they did as Louis accepted the cigarette...Harry can’t even last long enough for using his limited understanding of Louis’ balance of pressure might be on his knob based on their one kiss in the bathroom as Niall pounded on the door before he’s coming in his hand. The heat of Louis mouth as it would be taking his cock he couldn’t imagine, the depth Louis would take his length, all these little exciting nuances evade Harry as he responds to his fantasy far too quickly. 

And then he’s done.

And then it’s morning. 

… 

The sun is bright in the morning so the light wakes Harry far too jarringly. Once out of bed, dressed Harry is deciding whether to take advantage of the Saturday thinner number of regular patrons at the local coffee shop or whether to make tea and stay in when there is an early phone call for a weekend.

He’s sure it’s Samantha. She wanted to hang out together today.

Harry answers so a surprise greeting: “Harry, hey it’s Niall.”

Harry’s about to ask why not just knock on the door when the rushed sounding lad gets right to the point first . “Hey, big favor to ask. Look I got an early start today because I had to meet my group over on campus to finish this team project that is due Monday. Liam just called me, he and Zayn were on their way to ours to help Louis with something and they had an accident. They aren’t going to be able to help him today. You have a car, right?”

“I do, I do, but are they alright? Zayn, Liam?”

“Yes, they are okay, not the car. So could you help Louis? He doesn’t drive. He needs to get somewhere today.”

Harry’s wheels are spinning. He’s recalling the bloke from the incident in the hall saying he would see Louis on Saturday. Today.

“Okay, sure Niall. I can drive him someplace.” Harry says with trepidation.

“Great. And there is another thing. Get another person to go with you. A third person so it’s not only you and Louis.”

“Niall you’ve got me curious now. What do you mean? Where do I take Louis and why the third person, I don’t understand what is going on. Why don’t we do this together, you, me and Louis later when you get home?”

“Can’t wait. Can’t be sure when I will be done here.Besides Louis has to have something taken care of before it’s late. Be a sport and just take him where he needs to go. Bring a friend. It will be better if Louis explains. Thank you very much for helping with this Harry. There aren’t a lot of people we could trust with Louis like this. So your one of us now. Massive thanks again so much for helping with this.”

Once Harry agrees the call abruptly ends. No sooner than it does when his phone rings again. It’s Samantha this time. Harry invites her to go with him “to help a friend”. She is game to go along despite Harry telling her he can’t tell her much just that he needs to drive his neighbor someplace and it’s urgent.

The few steps it takes for Harry to go from his to Louis’ door leaves Harry little time to compose himself. He fears what he witnessed in the hall earlier this week is foreboding of something that is to be revisited.

Louis answers the door on the Harry’s first knock. It’s clear. Louis is nervous or at least not the same person he was the night before. Sure, he look gorgeous as always, his hair nicely styled in fringy mess, his clothes flattering his form. Harry smells on Louis the something like cedar with a hint of citrus. 

“Harry!” Louis says, “My hero again, I can’t thank you enough. Liam says he and Niall are both going to be okay, but still...”

Harry notes how while Louis is sincere in tone, that he doesn’t make eye contact. There is a slight nervousness, a tinge of shyness, his voice trying to find a balance to be convincing.

“Sure Louis, happy to help. So you know we’re just going to swing by the house of a friend of mine first, then we’re off to wherever you need to go.”

Louis shrugs. He follows Harry without question about what friend or answer about wherever. He seems all too quiet. Harry fights the urge to take Louis’ hand to lead him to the car. Harry distinctly remembers Liam doing just that one Saturday morning when he watched them from his loft view. 

Once to the car Harry does follow Liam’s suit and opens the passenger door for Louis. As Louis slips closely passing Harry in taking the seat. The pleasant cedar-orange scent hits Harry again drawling Harry into Louis but Harry doesn’t take advantage of it. He only guides Louis to sit. He’s relieved with his decision when he hears the increasing sound of shyness written in Louis’ second “thanks”.

The short drive to Samantha’s is in complete, awkward silence between them. When Louis sees who is the friend Harry is bringing along he looks a mixed of relieved and not so.

“Louis? Hey, how are you?” Asks a slightly surprised Samantha as she takes the back seat.

Louis blushes. A sign maybe he’d prefer Harry’s friend was not one who would know him.

“Good, good, you?” Louis says, but his figeting in the front seat is telling that such a response is not true. 

Thankfully Samantha begins her signature chattering. She tries to talk with Louis about the modeling they both just did. He is restrained in his answers but polite. Next Samantha tries to talk to Louis about the project the art students are to do next; the single feature and an object assignment Zayn mentioned. She tells Louis and Harry that the artist she is modeling for has elected to focus on her left eye, but has no idea yet what object to use so far. She asks next about what Zayn is planning, knowing he’s using Louis as the model again, then follows with telling Harry how much all the models wish they had a chance to be paired with Zayn like she’s said before. 

Perhaps because Louis is sort of quiet on the first subject Samantha changes the subject to a mutual friend of hers and Louis’, Stacey, who works with Louis at the daycare faculty. “Does Louis have the same problem as Stacey with the new three year old girl who never talks?” To that Louis replies with his most lively comment. 

“But she does talk”, Louis chips, “she just doesn’t use words, but she talks a lot.” The way Louis understands the little girl supports another thing Samantha said about Louis on an earlier occasion. 

He obviously is more than a slut. 

... 

The occasional directions Louis has given Harry as he drives takes them to a seedier side of town.

Arriving at the house Louis said was “the Place” Harry parks. 

“Wait here.” Louis says to Harry and Samantha. 

Once Louis hops out of the car Harry checks his phone that made a sound indicating a text had been delivered. Harry reads it after a glance tells him Louis has knocked on the door or the ramshackled-looking residence. 

The text from Niall says, “Do not leave Louis’ side. Do not let Louis go in the house.” 

Harry looks up. Samantha is talking but Harry really doesn’t hear a single word. His focus is on Louis at the door. 

Out of the house steps the built guy from the incident in the hallway his 6’4” stature dwarfing Louis. Harry is out of the car in a flash. The guy has handed Louis a paper bag. Louis has handed him a roll of cash. Harry is just approaching when the guy grabs Louis, hands around neck as to pull Louis to him as his mouth assaults Louis’ with a forced kiss. 

Harry can’t be sure if it’s Louis pushing off or the guy tossing Louis away, but something breaks them apart. Once Harry is to Louis, he wraps him in arms but Louis fights the intended comfort. He goes to the floor of the porch on his hands and knees because zlouis has dropped the pare bag. The Hallway Guy is laughing at this. Louis is scrambling to pick up what are numberous little vials and packed needles, those being the contents or the bag he gave Louis which fell from Louis’hamds because of the grab for an uninvited kiss. 

With Louis on the porch scrambling to pick up the items this forces Harry to keep some distance between he and The Hallway Guy who laughs more at Louis’ frantic attempt to get the vials before all the small, cylindrical containers roll away.

Harry is speechless at this pathetic scene. The Hallway Guy is not.

“Better to have let me at least have one little kiss next time, sassy little bitch. Better yet, a piece of that fine arse of yours, that looks like you’re now sharing with the new pretty-boy neighbor too.” 

Louis snaps at him, “Believe it or not, Jeremy, I’m not having sex with every person on the street. I’m not a complete slut, despite your impression.” 

Louis has most of the vials and syringes back in the bag. He’s still on the ground looking for any vials that rolled away. 

“Sure, sure you’re not. You sure didn’t mind giving your arse when you thought the drugs were a good trade, did you?” 

After a fleeting glance at Harry like to check his reaction to Jeremy’s statement Louis lashes back. “That was never a good trade.” 

Jeremy looks at the wad of money he pulls out from a pocket he’d shoved it into before he tried to kiss Louis. It’s a lot of money. “And so you keep saying. But it’s going to cost you more next week Princess. Much, much more.” 

Jeremy makes Louis freeze his search with that. With Louis’ eyes on him Jeremy makes a discovery known to Louis. One vial had rolled to his feet that Louis hadn’t seen. Having Louis’ attention on him Jeremy uses the toe of his shoe to bump the glass vial toward Louis only to take his foot to slam down on the thing as Louis was attempting to reach for it. Shattering the vial, its liquid contents wasted, he laughs as Louis screams, “No!” 

Ramifications must be unbearable because Louis puts his hands over his face. His body shudders. Harry tries to get him off the the ground while gingerly taking his bag of jumbled treasures. Louis doesn’t resist Harry, nor does his assist much like maybe his legs are week from Jeremy’s destructive vengeance. 

“Next time Princess, much more or make time for future lap dances like in the past. This doesn’t have to be so hard on you. You can keep all you other prettyboys, slut that you are, just let me have some too.” 

After that a destroyed Louis lets Harry take him into his chest. Louis’ face buried against Harry’s shirt, Harry can feel the wet of tears slowing soaking into his shirt as Louis trembles. 

Harry removes Louis from the offensive bloke’s front porch. Laughing behind them Jeremy has to add more salt to the wound, “Louis! Would hate to see our arrangement fall apart all together. How else do you get the drugs you need? Some lap time seems all too easy, shouldn’t be so hard.” 

Once Louis is back in the car, Harry too, ignoring Samantha’s “What was that about?”, Harry takes a hard look at Louis. Louis who is sobbing in his hands, who is shaking and having nothing to say. 

“Louis, Louis, shhh. Please, stop hiding, I’m sorry for whatever that was, just take some deep breaths and let’s get you home.” 

Harry starts the car, pulls away, begins to take a route to their part of town when Louis shakes off his misery. He takes the bag of medical goods that was sat in his lap by Harry and begins to sort them. He’s a little mervous about doing this.Samantha has stopped trying to discover what was the thing at the man’s porch and symapthetically hands Louis some tissues. Louis thanks her but remains focused on sorting vials while giving Harry a new address, ending with a plea as he does so. 

“...please Harry, one more stop. Please. You can drop me there and then you and can go Samantha wherever you want, but please. One more stop. I have to get these home.” 

*** 

Home. Louis said that, “home”. He does not, however, mean to the building that houses their flats. Yet when Louis’ next destination takes them to a nicer part of town, someplace with a more family feel to it, Harry is not so worried although he remains totally clueless. Samantha too. She has taken to an uncharacteristic quiet instead of choosing talking to fill the silence. 

They stop at the the small, neatly maintained residence where Louis takes the bag of drugs and syringes as he steps out of the car. “It’s okay Harry, it’s perfectly safe here. You’re free to go. I’m sure later tonight or tomorrow Niall can come get me.” 

The composure Louis slowly gathered as they drove the route is astounding. Once he’s out of the car there is no evidence of his struggle earlier. No sign he was crying. 

Harry looks around at where they are. Families are out and about, babies in strollers being pushed by parents, dogs playing with children, people biking for recreation. The pause perhaps is why Louis adds with the shyness of earlier dampening his confidence when he said to leave him, “Or if you rather, you can stay. Come inside. Both of you...I mean, you both. You are welcome if you want...” 

Maybe the mystery is too much but Samantha doesn’t wait a second. She pops her door open, “Come on Harry. Turn the car off. Let’s stick with Louis.” 

The three go to the door with Louis opening the front door as he announces them in a voice perky and light, “Mum, it’s me, sorry if we’re late. My new driver made us come the scenic route!” 

Some medical equipment sits in the front sitting room. The sight of that equipment as well as the smell of something delicious baking meets Harry before a woman comes into the room. She’s using support to walk, detaching the devices hastily from her arms as Louis approaches so she can receive him with a hug. 

“Louis!” She says with her voice soft and melodic, “should never worry my sweet boy for being late. I know you’ll be here.” 

The hug concludes with Louis pulling a chair catch her immediately as they part so as to have her sit by guided to under her with his steadying guidance. She’s sat there when her eyes take in Louis’ companions. A warm smile greets them. Her melodic tone and her smile for the two strangers don’t hide the fact that this is someone very sick. Perhaps dying. 

“So tell me Louis, who are these new friends of yours so kind as to bring you here today? I’m Jay Tomlinson, Louis’ mum, as I’m sure he’s told you, and you are?” 

.... 

Harry and Samantha are quick to introduce themselves. As they do Louis is quick to take the contents of the bag to the kitchen. He sorts them out then proceeds to come back to the front sitting room where he goes to some comfy chair adding by syringe to an IV drip bag the contents of three vials. All this time Jay talking with Harry and Samantha; “How nice it is to meet more of Louis’ friends”, “how do they know each other”, “where are they from”, “what do they study”, “would they like something to eat, cookies in the oven”... 

”...oh no!” She’s worries they are burning. 

Through all of this Harry is very aware how carefully Louis has handled three vials of drugs to the bag that is an IV drip, adding them, clearly getting things ready for his mum’s care. He’s not really engaged with anything other than this task as Harry and Sam answer a good many questions for Jay who seems as warm and friendly as any person could be particularly when she is someone who is quite ill.

Once it seems Louis has things ready he asks Harry to assist to help him bring Jay from the small, formal sitting chair where she is sat to the comfortable one where the IV drip is. Jay is quick to protest.

“Louis, sweetheart, it’s okay if we wait a bit, don’t you think? Let your friends have some refreshments before you plug your old mum in for her treatment. Don’t fuss over me. Get them some tea...and I think the last batch of cookies I put int the oven are burning. I can smell it!”

Louis makes his mum stay; she seems to want to try to rise like to get the bake goods instead of take it easy in the chair for receiving her treatment. Louis takes her arm and talks with her softly as he inserts a needle into a vein like he is the parent, her the child, “Mum, you sit still and let me get this going. A few burnt cookies won’t matter. Harry can make us all some tea, can’t you Harry?”

When Louis looks to Harry, in his eyes, the trust he’s laying upon Harry, it’s like they’ve been together forever. The casualness of Louis’ assumption conveys this trust. 

Harry, and Sam, still don’t know the whole story. What they do know is that Louis’ mum needs some pretty intense care.

Harry jumps up. “Of course, excuse me Mrs Tomlinson, I’ll see about those burning cookies too.” 

From the kitchen as Harry saves the brownish cookies from blackening, fills a kettle to boil water, he hears Jay call out to him. “Harry, please just call me Jay” before she begins to inquire more with Samantha about her story. 

Harry returns to the sitting room where Jay is sincerely interested in Sam’s chattering. The talkative girl has finally found someone who has as many questions as she has answers. Harry found a plate to put the cookies that are not burnt on for serving. He doesn’t hear Louis say much once he rejoins them. Whatever Louis does say from time to time to his mum seems mostly comments on “the treatment”, nothing more. Louis seems content to let Samantha and Jay talk.

A little later when Harry takes the tray with remains of tea and cookies to the kitchen when he sees how Louis has neatly lined out the vials of drugs. Harry decides to snap a picture of the labels of the vials of remaining drugs because he’s curious. What are they for? Who makes them? Why is Louis buying these drugs from some random bloke? 

Louis has the vials sorted out in three distinct, neat rows separating the three different types of drugs. There are six vials of two varieties and five of the third variety. The drug names on the three varieties Harry can’t know. He is sure the one drug that is only a count of five is the drug that Jeremy smashed with his foot. What had been 21 vials is now 17 because Louis has taken three to give to the Jay just now and one of the original 21 was destroyed.

So there it is. Louis isn’t on drugs. His mum is. Clearly Jay Tomlinson is not some addict. Harry is still yet to understand. All he knows is that he wants to photograph the labels and go from there to try understand what is the story.

...

Once Harry returns to the sitting room Jay’ yearning to learn about these new friends turns to him. Fortunately, Harry has a smooth ease with women Jay’s age. She seems nearly the same age as his own mum. Often his natural comfort with women older than him is mistaken as him liking the cougars, but that has never been the case. While he talks with Jay he gets a strong sense that Jay understands him. She reads a lot between the lines. Jay might be ill but she is no fool. That’s when it happens. A mother’s intuition.

“You know Harry”, Jay says, “you are much more the sort of lad I pictured my Louis with.”

Harry leans in as this is a welcomed statement and he sees how Louis flinches at that. Jay continues clarifying her meaning. “Don’t get me wrong about Jeremy, with all Jeremy is doing for me it’s easier to overlook his age difference and other things that he and Louis don’t share in common, but you know, mothers worry about their babies. Grown or not, Louis is all I have, still my baby and all I’ve ever wanted for him was his happiness. Since Louis says Jeremy is a good boyfriend I should not mind the age thing I guess. Or that Louis wants children and Jeremy doesn’t.”

Harry’s face must look aghast at the name Jeremy. She doesn’t know what of Jeremy Harry has seen, two occasions that paint a very different picture of Jeremy’s relationship to Louis than what Jay seems to know it. Jay catches the perplexed look on Harry’s face. She doesn’t understand it’s origin.

“I mean you have met Jeremy, right?”

Harry looks at Louis who looks back to him with a slight fearfulness. Harry guesses his repsonse needs to be a lie. 

“Oh, um, right I have, just briefly though. Couple times. Mostly Louis is so busy working and with school. I’m new the building so I’ve really only run into Jeremy a couple times.” Harry deliberately doesn’t say anything about seeing Jeremy today. Louis relaxes with Harry’s response and with his mum not seeing his affirmation directed to Harry Louis nods a “yes” like to say the answer was a good one. 

“Well Jeremy has been such an angel to us, hasn’t he Louis. I’m very sure if is wasn’t for love at first sight I wouldn’t be getting the treatment. He was there they day we went to try to sign me up for the program. My doctor had said before we went that I wouldn’t qualify, my numbers weren’t good enough. He thought it was foolish to try. When the people like Jeremy who working for the pharmaceutical company looked at my application we got the got feeling that I was going to be excluded, right Louis? Remember how devastated we felt that day? We feared my doctor was right.” 

Jay pats Louis on the leg as she recalls what sounds like a traumatic time but she has a smile for Louis telling her story, a smile which Louis returns to her along with a simple “Yes, mum, never could forget that day.” 

The simple response from Louis sets her back to the story. “But this one gentleman with the company comes over to us. Introduces himself, it was Jeremy. He asks to speak with Louis privately. I could tell by the look in his eyes this that this man, Jeremy, was enchanted with Louis. Next thing I know we’ve gotten approved. After that as I am planning to make arrangements for making daily visits to the hospital overseeing the trials, Jeremy swoops in to make some alternate arrangements for me to make it easier for me, and here we are. I don’t have to travel to the hospital everyday. Meanwhile Jeremy has made himself the perfect boyfriend in every way. Maybe he is a little older than I’ve pictured for Louis but if he makes my son happy, what more can a mother ask? How long has it been Louis? Eighteen months maybe since he swept you off you feet after that meeting the first awful day?” 

Louis affirms the time. He makes no indication Jeremy is not a boyfriend. Not even a bad boyfriend. Not anyone who ever swept him off his feet. At least not unless one includes manhandling Louis as being swept. 

Even though Jays drip is done well before dinner they stay on through it with Harry and Samatha doing the cooking under Jay’s supervision. Jay affirms what Harry has already learned; Louis is not a friend to the kitchen. By the time the hour gets late and they prepare to leave Harry has learned a good deal of other things about Louis Tomlinson. He’s a devoted son, making sure his mum’s help during the week is doing what they need to for her, gets a list of groceries organized so he can have them delivered, check’s with her about what friends or neighbors have stopped by, who is coming in the week ahead. He even makes a list of people he’s going to send thank you notes to on her behalf because it’s very clear she is able to live at home alone despite her weak state because of a community that is involved in her care. Louis shoulders all the responsibility it seems. He does this while hiding the reality of his relationship with the man his mum thinks is an her angel. 

As soon as the lengthy process of leaving allows the three to finally get into the car Harry goes on the assault with questions. This despite that Louis immediately went to putting his hands over his face as if to close out the world; the disparity between the real world and the one he’s convinced his mum of bearing on his emotions too great. 

“She’s not in an official drug trail, is she Louis?” 

“No.” Louis says with his hands remaining covering his face. 

“And Jeremy has been manipulating this situation to have access to you.” 

“Yes.” 

“For a time you were giving him intimacy, but then you pulled that away?” 

“Yes.” 

“And he tries to get you back?” 

“Yes.” 

“But you refuse, so you buy the drugs, he sells them illegally, somehow, and you try to keep his needs at bay hoping eventually he’ll give up or your mum will get better.” 

“Yes.” 

Samantha interrupts. Not driving she is studying Louis for her seat behind him. She tells Harry what she can observe. “Harry I don’t think this is the time for that. Leave him be. Can’t you tell he’s killing himself shouldering all this? Keeping a secret to keep his mother alive and to top it off she wouldn’t have it, she said many times while we were there that she didn’t believe that Jeremy seemed right for her son. Too old for him, not interested in having children. Louis has convinced her otherwise in order to take care of her. Leave him be.” 

Samantha follows her scolding of Hary by reaching forward, putting hand on Louis’ shoulder. Patting it. 

This makes Harry realize how much Louis is trembling in his seat. He’s still hiding his face, maybe just because he’s hiding tears. Samantha is right to talk to Harry this way. Harry knows it. 

One of Harry’s hands leaves the steering wheel to be placed on Louis’ thigh. “I’m sorry Louis. Very sorry. I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I were in your shoes. In fact I know I would. Would it be okay if I helped? I can give you money each week so you can keep up the charades. Would that help?” 

Louis brings his hands down. He’s face shows he was restraining tears. “Of course you know that is why I do what I do like I’m some common slut, a mere whore, right? I wouldn’t let my friends shell out their money with nothing in return, you know. The only difference to fucking them instead of Jeremy is at least I care for them.” 

Samantha didn’t even blink after the admission from Louis that he is shagging his friends for cash.

Harry does. He stops the car off to the side of the street. He unbuckles his seat belt and turns to look at Louis straight on. He puts his hands on Louis’ face for sake of keeping Louis focused on him, his meaning. “I would never use the words ‘common’, ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ to refer to you! Don’t talk about yourself like that. Listen to me, I want to help. Let me help please.” 

Louis puts a small kiss on Harry’s lips. Every thought in his brain evacuates. In the back seat Samantha says “If you both weren’t so cute this would be annoying.” 

Basically that’s the last thing anyone says that evening on their way home except their goodbyes. Louis’ simple kiss was enough to put Harry’s need to direct Louis’ path into a spin. What did the kiss mean? 

At their apartment doors Niall pulls Louis is taking him into a big hug as Harry passes him off. Both Niall and Louis thank him for taking Louis. He informs Harry that Zayn and Liam will be okay, the car totaled but they are lucky. As Harry watches how Louis lets Niall take him into their apartment Harry wishes it was his role to tuck the delicate lad in arms and take care of him. The emotional toll of Louis’ position must be exhausting. 

*** 

Once Harry is up he resists his urge to go see his neighbors. It’s early, he’s sure they would be sleeping. Harry has a job to do. 

Arrriving to the luxurious home familiar to him Harry keys in and proceeds to walk toward the kitchen. Some breakfast would be nice. A voice from the stairs greets him. 

“Could that be my long lost son who is always too busy since his return from Boston to visit walking through my house or do my eyes betray me?” 

Harry turns slowly, shammed by the honest truth. His mum has pleaded time and time again to see more of him. He’s yet to tell her he’s kept her at bay because he doesn’t want to share his heartache with her. He knows his mum is the one person he can’t hide things from. Somehow now after seeing Louis and Jay two things have profoundly overtaken him. 

First, he doesn’t want to be like Louis and tried to hide his suffering. Being as lucky as Louis as to have a great mother he should embrace it. What would he do if he found out Anne was sick? For sure he’d regret every minute he blew her off to avoid her knowing his pain, but also, also, he too would do anything for her. Just like Louis. 

The second thing is that suddenly, as he’s come to understand Louis’ reality the thing he felt for Louis, an obsession based on someone’s beauty, is replaced by something else. Harry thinks he’s in love. Louis isn’t just a trinket to admire, he’s actually a hell of a good soul deserving of all the love. This new love Harry feels has pushed the Bad Boyfriend from every recess of Harry’s being. All he wants is to help Louis. 

“Hiya, mum, it’s your shit son here, no ghosts. Just an apologetic son who has no reasonable explanation. Can we talk? I have something important to ask your help with.” 

Anne’s disposition changes instantly. The mother who was in the mood to chastise her son becomes sincerely concerned and receptive. “Oh, Harry dear, this doesn’t sound good. Is this about your breakup? You know if you tell Gemma secrets they usually find their way to me eventually.” 

“No mum, not broken hearted anymore. Actually kinda got a crush on someone far more wonderful, the most beautiful person in the world and someone with a heart of gold. The kind of person who would be a great partner to adopt some kids with, make a home with. Didn’t you always say you can tell what a person is like by how he treats his mother? My boyfriend never did have any love for his mother. This boy, Louis, is the best son in the world. And that is why I need your help.” 

Setting down some fresh rolls and some tea Anne eagerly waits for Harry to begin. 

“Louis and Niall are my neighbors. I met Niall first, never saw Louis until, recently because he’s always working, or at school. To be honest I don’t know what he studies. He was kind of a mystery, this beautiful thing, almost like a doll in his perfection, but then yesterday I got to see who he reall is. He is the most loving, committed person. And he has a big secret. His mum is very sick. Very very sick.” 

Anne takes Harry’s hand because she sees the tears welling in his eyes. She pats his hand and lets him muster his composure. 

“The thing is pecause of your job, what I’m going to tell you has to be with your promise not to expose them. Louis and his mum. Can you promise me that?” 

“Now you have got me really worried Harry, but yes, I will promise.” 

Harry pulls out his phone. He shows his mum a picture of the labels of the three drugs. “This is what Louis’ mum is taking to treat her illness. I’m not sure but I think it’s cancer. Her supplies of it come from a man who works for the pharmaceutical company that makes it. Apparently she would not have qualified for their trials, she was already too sick. The man at the drug company who sends it to her does it through Louis, Louis sees her each week to bring the drugs, but she is at home. Without a physician overseeing this.” 

Anne studies the picture. She shakes her head. “Harry we don’t run the trial of these drugs through my hospital. But I know them. The medical community are hoping at the end of the year the last test before approvals are to be complete. At that time our hospital, all hospitals will have access to them. They are expected to be the singular best thing on the market particulate for the most vicious form of cancer. But no one can have these through a black market.” 

Her show at the labels in the picture don’t hide her ongoing contemplation. “How is Louis getting the pharmaceutical agent to supply them to him? What kind of power over the absent would make him take such a risk? It’s a criminal act. Everyone involved is at risk of prosecution, but then you know that, future Barrister Styles.” 

”Yes, I do know that. I am sure Louis does too. Jay is clueless. She thinks she got approved to receive treatments because “the agent” as you call him, Jeremy, is smitten with Louis, his boyfriend, and has this all set up. Louis is allowing his mum to believe that she’s got proper approval and he hides from her what the costs are to him. Mum, Jeremy is blackmailing Louis.” 

“Blackmailing? But how can he put a price on the drugs? They aren’t for sale, this Louis he has a lot of money, I take it he’s wealthy?” 

“No mum. He’s has two jobs, I told you that. Louis is not wealthy. Jay lives in a modest home. They only have each other. Jeremy expects sex. He got Louis to do that in the beginning, then, I don’t know why except I’m guessing Jeremy was brutalizing Louis, the sex stopped. Now he sells the drug to Louis and keeps hiking the price. He’s trying to drive Louis back to his bed. Like Louis is his. He has Louis in a bad place. Jay has no idea he’s a bad person, bad boyfriend. Louis pretends all is great.” 

Anne puts down the phone she has been staring at. “Because I promised you I will be true to the promise. Besides, if this Jay is on these drugs if she goes off suddenly that is surely a death sentence. She needs to see a doctor involved in the trial though. You need to bring Louis to talk to me. Tomorrow. I’ll be at the hospital all day, ask him to come and I will try to sort out what to do to safe guard his mother. But if this comes out the company will stop the illegal distribution. Louis might face charges as well, blackmailed or not.” 

“Well you see mum, I won’t let anything happen to him. You don’t understand. He’s tiny, delicate...he’s not going to jail for this. Jeremy absolutely. Furthermore I’m sure that Louis wouldn’t come talk to you either. He won’t do anything to jeapardize his mum’s chances.” 

Anne gives Harry another reassuring touch. “Harry I’ve sworn to not betray the trust. Can you try to give me a chance to sort this out? As the admistrator of London finest hospital I think I can find a course to resolve this legally. It might take a little time. First I need to know more about Jay’s case. What’s her name anyway?” 

“Tomlinson. Jay Tomlinson.” 

Anne spits out the tea she’s just sipped. “Tomlinson? Petite, brown eyes, attractive woman about my age?” 

“Don’t tell me you know her?” 

“If it’s the same Jay Tomlinson that was originally from Doncaster, I absolutely know her. She was one of my nurses when I was making my way up the ladder in hospital administration at the Doncaster hospital. The Jay I knew was working in the pediatric ward where we had the hardest cases, premies. She was a lovely person in every way. I moved on to take a position here in London so we fell out of touch. She was a remarkable to work with. Very loving. Smart. Excellent nurse.” 

*** 

Harry is home about 4 in the afternoon. He immediatley heads to his neighbors. 

It’s Niall who answers the door. “Louis is at work.” Niall informs the inquisitive Harry. “He’ll be home after the club closes. He has to cash out so that usually puts him back at 3AM, maybe a bit before.” 

Which club is probably a stupid question. It’s one where Harry has seen him before. The one where he walked into Louis riding Liam in a stall of the men’s room. 

The next puzzle piece that fits into place strikes Harry when he walks into the club. There are two blokes checking ids at the door for underage. As one bloke asks for Harry’s identification before choosing which stamp to put on Harry’s hand, he hears a familiar voice. “He’s legal, hard to believe with those dimples, but he is.” 

Harry gets stamped “as legal” with Liam welcoming him bringing Harry along past the bottleneck of patrons held up by doormen checking their ids. 

Liam looks to have a few bruises on his face from the car accident. That aside he seems in good spirits. His authority over staff is Harry’s first clue that Liam works as a manager at this club. 

“So this is your job, manager?” Harry asks after first conveying that he is glad Liam is okay, sorry as well about the car accident, and an inquiry about Zayn. 

“Yes, one of the managers. We’ve got several. It’s a good gig for fitting in around my class schedule. It pays well too. Down side it there is the occasional need to back up the staff that tosses out the drunks. More than once I’ve ended up looking like this because some pissed bloke got lucky and managed to hit me squarely. But otherwise not so bad a job.” 

“And Louis? Niall said Louis works here.” 

Liam points at the bar. Two people pulling away from their seats at the bar open a gap and Harry sees Louis where Liam point to. 

Louis. 

Could he be dressed any more “gay”? Louis has on typically well fitted jeans and a shirt that is...well? 

What bits of fabric are there have a look as if he was attacked by a bear. Much of his abdomen is bare, his right nipple is exposed and his left collarbone. He is in a word, the one twink any gay man would want to take home. The image he’s selling appears to have its desired effect. The seat at the bar are filled by blokes. Blokes who are watching him constantly, vying for his attention, smiling at him like idiots when he acknowledges them as he goes about mixing up drinks for wait-staff. The tip jar nearby him appears to be full. Compared to the jar of tips down at the other end when another bartender works, it’s brimming. 

“Wanna drink?” Liam asks. “Gotta check the back room for a missing delivery, but have Louis set up your tab on my account.” 

That said Liam is gone through the crowd. Harry approaches the bar sort of feeling nervous. He sort of worrying about what he said to his mum. Afraid how to broach the subject of getting Louis to meet with her when Louis sees him. 

The smile. The smile must say something because at least four guys at the bar stop watching Louis to turn to see what, who, has Louis smiling so. 

*** 

(Later)... 

Louis said “No”. 

After it was that Harry thought that what he said was stated in nicest way possible. Something Harry’s carefully considered that made it seem completely non-threatening; a suggestion only for them to go together see Harry’s mum only to talk about the drugs Jay is getting. Unfortunately the suggestion got an immediate reaction from Louis. He became hyper, nervous and then he really, really totally freaked out. 

So as the club, which had emptied of all patrons, when Harry’s suggestion was made after closing time, Louis was not having it even though Harry was only trying to make a path to end the situation Louis is in. 

Instead of Harry’s assist this is when Louis begins a sudden, unhinged shouting at Harry to “get out”; get out of the club, get out of his private business, get out of his life. 

Once that meltdown starts the bouncers take Harry in hand. Liam has to stop them from doing this rather rough handling of Harry, he himself takes over gently escorting Harry to the door while talking with him so no other can hear their conversation as they walk. 

Kindly given how Harry has unhinged Louis, Liam says “Harry, go home. Just go on.” 

“Liam I’m trying to help Louis. Honestly. I mean no harm to Jay.” 

“I know that Harry. Trust me I know how it feels to want to help.” 

“I think you do Liam but I don’t think you really understand. I mean you’ve been taking him to see his mum, you, Zayn, Niall. You’ve been giving him money, or something...a trade, but, but the thing is, you see I don’t think you understand about the drugs Jay is getting. The danger that it poses to them. To Jay, to Louis.” 

“No Harry, I don’t think you understand. How about this.” Liam says while making a circular hand jester. “Harry, once the employees are are all done here with closing the club I will be walking Louis home. It will be middle of the night but if you don’t mind me coming to yours so late after I’ve seen Louis home safely I’ll come over. We can talk about this then. I have to be certain that Louis doesn’t have Jeremy waiting at the flat. Occasionally Jeremy does that. That is why I can’t leave with you now to explain. You’ll have to wait.”

*** 

Harry can’t help but to stand inside the door of his flat listening for the sound of someone in the hall. It is nearly an hour after he left the club when quietly someone is passing his door. Opening only the slightest sliver allows him to see Liam patting Louis on the bum before sending Louis into his home. Louis in that crazy shirt, the shirt that makes him look as gay as possible. Also the shirt, the one that when he freaked over Harry’s suggestion, is so revealing as to allow Harry to see how panicked he was, his little abdomen panting as he yelled at Harry when overtaken with fear.

Liam comes to Harry’s ajar door, “May I come in?”

As soon as he is in Harry launches, “Liam, let me explain...”

“He told me Harry. As the crowd thinned you hung around, you began taking about something when you didn’t have to fight the noise of the club, you said you had an offer to help his mum, something about your mum being the higher up at some hospital.” Liam pauses. He looks hard at Harry. He softens his voice a bit as he begins again. “By the way. I’d never forget a face like yours, never. So when I've asked if we’ve met you’ve never quite had the nerve to admit, admit where I saw you first. The club. The men’s room.”

Harry blushes. Liam drops the subject of Harry’s long standing lie and continues about Louis.

“You got it bad for him don’t you? You think you’re going to help, right? Do you think any of us haven't wanted to do the same? When we first met Louis all of us were enchanted by him. Well, most of the time. Occasionally he can be a pain in the arse, but as you no doubt discovered he is a genuinely good person with a heart of gold. Jeremy, Jeremy as we knew him in the beginning seemed okay though Louis never acted like he was in love with him. When we saw them together it was Louis was this prize, not a person Jeremy cared for. One time he was sitting at the bar of the club while Louis worked and my people heard him bragging about the pretty bartender being ‘his needy little bitch’. On another night, months later, Jeremy was again bragging as he tended to do frequently but the people he was telling his shit to held some disbelief, probably because by then Louis had cooled a lot to his so-called boyfriend by that time. Then next thing we know, Louis takes a break, the other bartender said the people who Jeremy was partying with had followed with Jeremy as Louis took a break and this group with Jeremy had this behavior was weird. The other bartender worried, something going on with this group about money. What do I find when I go look in the back for Louis? Me, and a couple of the doormen, we find Louis is being fucked, bent by Jeremy over a sink in the back, this being watched, cheered by the other blokes who’d been hanging at the bar partying with Jeremy. The purpose was Jeremy would win some bet with them if he could prove he could get the cute bartender to allow him to do this while they got to watch.”

Liam and Harry are sitting by now in his living room area. It’s hardly relaxing though. Harry’s fits begin to clench as Liam goes on. “After that night Louis began to show up more and more to work with bruises. Niall saw regular bruises becoming a new thing, Zayn too. None of us heard anything about them from Louis. He can be stubborn. Then one day he came home so battered, Naill called into work that he wasn’t coming, told me why. He had to call in to school about expected absence, this included Zayn giving notice from his prof to expect no Louis to sit to model for him for a few days. We all ended up over at Niall and Louis’ flat where Niall let us see him. He was sleeping. Poor thing. ‘Jeremy’ was all Louis said. He didn’t tell Niall what, why, where, he just said Jeremy. That was on a Wednesday.

“When Saturday came Louis was freaking out Niall says as he calls me, and Zayn. Please come, Niall asks. We get there and Niall is having a hard time holding Louis back from leaving, he’s going to Jeremy’s he kept insisting, he’s a wreak. His attempts to hide his bruises isn’t working and he’s saying has to go. He has to take care of his mum. That’s when we hear his phone ring. He gets it, within a minute we figure he’s talking to Jeremy and then his mum, and then Jeremy again.

“Later we would learn Jeremy went to take care of Jay. As you know, to bring her drugs. And to hide from her the fact her son had been beaten by him because Louis was no longer going to be giving into his sexual desires. Jeremy carefully played the role of the devoted boyfriend, the angel she believes Jeremy to be, because Jeremy could convince her ‘Louis is sick and can’t risk exposing her to a virus’. After Jeremy leaves Jay he comes to Louis. Me and Zayn are still at the flat with Niall and Louis because Louis was uncontrollable with fear that Jeremy would hurt his mum; the true nature of Jeremy having revealed itself. When Jeremy comes to the flat, he picks Louis up, telling him ‘you are my bitch, you will give to me whatever I want, when, where, how because I own your arse’, and like that takes Louis into Louis’ room. We could do nothing...we knew if we called police, Jay is off the drug. But Harry, being in the flat while Jeremy did his thing with Louis, for hours, horrible hours of brutality, was hard. 

“By the time Jeremy left we couldn’t even speak we were so numb with worrying for Louis, Jay. And Louis, well. So. Okay, so by the next Saturday comes around Louis is still a mess. Emotionally, physically. Jeremy had not been around since the week before. The club had already put him on the ‘no entry’ list at the door following his prior disrespect. By another Saturday we don’t know what to do. Louis calls Jeremy. He says he’s too sore. He can’t ‘perform’ yet. Jeremy apparently decides to make the plea for a withholding of sex painful in a different way. He demands Louis comes with money. The money the cost of the drugs. Prior to this Louis was always going to Jeremy’s they’d have sex, then Jeremy would take Louis to see Jay, the drugs were free. Louis would be home usually on Sunday because he’d sleep over at Jeremy’s, more sex something like that was part of the price. However when Jeremy starts to accept money, that’s when things changed. That first Saturday me and Niall went to get Jay’s supply at Jeremy’s. Zayn stayed back to look after Louis, told his cousins to come over too, that way if Jeremy showed up at Louis’ there were four men to keep Louis safe.

“Me and Niall gave Jeremy money like he demanded that Louis should bring. We told him Louis was really bad off from the Saturday before. He accepted the story. We went to see Jay, who knew Niall quite well. That bought Louis another week to figure things out. The money we used the first week to pay off Louis’ service came from all of us. Louis, me, Zayn, Niall, Zayn’s cousins. Everyone wanted to keep Louis away from Jeremy.

“We continue to do this the next several weeks although two of us always take Louis to buy the drugs at Jeremy’s and then on to Jay’s. By that time Louis is working two jobs that still don’t pay the increasing costs that Jeremy demands. And we’ve helped Louis every week. One week Louis suddenly decides, he’s overwrought about our continued financial assist. Louis came on to me. Initially I had no idea Louis did the same with Zayn, Niall, but he did. He says it’s the only way he can accept my continued help. When you saw me and Louis at the club, it’s because he doesn’t want Niall to hear us. He kind of keeps it separate. Not that we didn’t all confide to each other and eventually realize he’s fucking all of us to feel okay about taking our money to help with his mum. It’s not that he’s been able to seduce us because he’s a really good fuck, though he is so very, very good, it’s actually that he becomes a wreck if he can’t have it his way. He’s so afraid of what will happen to Jay.

Liam sits back deep in the couch. Resigned. He makes a terminating slap on his thighs before he decides to resume his course of the story of Louis’ behavior. “Ask yourself Harry, can you run the risk of taking away from Jay what Louis will do. Damn the stakes? We have had several close calls of Jeremy coming at random times to collect Louis. We have built an elaborate plan of who-meets-Louis-where, when, schedule to prevent that Jeremy sneak happening like it did once when Louis came home brutally used and beaten. If you want to help, help us run interference, you don’t have to ‘donate’ though it’s clear Louis looks at you like it’s more than a potential fun shag he wants from you. With the three of us, Zayn’s cousins, and him, it’s just friends, not anything more, but with you he has a kinda crush on you. You’re different. It would be nice for him to be in a loving relationship where sex is between romantic lovers not tied to this. Eventually it will be nice for us to get on with our own lives. Me personally I’m more a Smokey Pakistan romancing type. Niall has a guy who’s crazy over him, some Mendez bloke, name Shawn. If you have any interest in Louis, think with your heart. Will Jay suffer if Jeremy is exposed? Will Louis? Don’t be rash. Don’t put Jay’s life at stake.”

Overwhelmed, Harry runs his hands through his hair. “Can’t believe this could be happening. So tell me. How does the money work? How much does everyone pay? How do you do if Jeremy when likes to demand more?”

Liam sits forward again to explain. He’s back to engaged. “Okay we always expect Jeremy will demand more. Once he said he wouldn’t raise the demand if at pickup on Saturday Louis would just kiss him. Louis did, but the next week it was changed. Just wanted Louis to suck him off. Right then and there, on the street side porch in front, damn if anyone saw them, but then Jeremy always likes having people see him with Louis, so he’s twisted in more than one way. Back to the money. Louis works the Sunday through Wednesday bartending shifts at the club. He has his daycare job early mornings Monday through Friday. He can’t do the best bar shifts at the club because each Saturday he goes to spend time with Jay. Even though Louis always makes good tips, even on slow days, because Louis has a following so people naturally like him. He dresses like you saw, they like that. By Thursday we will know what we need to add up to make the buy for Jeremy from our own contributions. We just kinda share that, share him, on his terms, he keeps things fun and interesting. I’ve heard from Zayn that you got an eyeful at Zayn’s when his cousins were at his. Now mind you Harry, the Malik’s are not all gay. Zayn’s cousins only go that way strickly for Louis because, he’s fun. Everybody loves Louis.”

Liam leans into Harry like the next thing is important. “If you like him too Harry, and the way your face gets when you look at Louis says you do...there is that thing you do when you look at him, where you bite your lower lip like you hunger for him, but you have to decide. Is his situation yours to decide? Is it his? As wrong-minded as it seems do you follow your ideas or his?Do you fall in line with us?”

***

Harry calls his mum Monday morning after a sleepless night. He’s weighed what Liam said. How Louis acted when he approached Louis about meeting with a hospital representative to discuss Jay, what he’s seen himself of Jeremy’s abuse...Harry’s weighed it all. 

“Mum, alternative plan....”

...

Louis looks totally different to Harry when Harry first sees him at the campus where Louis works the early shift of the daycare job. Louis is the ipitomy of Peter Pan with his hair in its spiky, fringy mess. His clothes are cut with a playful flair but lack any of the exposure of the night before. Harry discovers this as he finds Louis is sat on the floor with a bunch of children around him in room where Louis is the giant for once because everything else is scaled to small people. Children. Louis is unquestionably happy as he’s got at least two or three younglings hanging on him. At least two girls are in conversations with him at once while he’s trying to extract some weird goo from a third child’s hair. 

Louis only realizes that Harry is there after he first notices a parent is coming in to off a little child when the parent signs in the child at the desk. The child, a shy boy, seems to not want to detach from his Koala baby hold of his father. Louis breaks off from the mayhem of other children, comes through the secure door to prevent accidental loss of adventurous wandering children. Despite the surprise of seeing Harry there, Harry with flowers in hand, a dozen yellow roses to be precise, Louis ignores Harry in order to do his job, greet the gentleman with child in arms.

“Professor Shrike, good morning. How is Brandon today?” Louis says as he immediatley puts his hands on little Brandon to give the tyke a tickle under his chin. The boy giggles but clings still to his father. Louis makes a sad face at him being playful. 

“Oh, you know Louis. Monday’s are the worse. Two days at home and he gets frightened again about leaving home, being left here. We promise him you will be here, that helps. Each step closer he gets, you know.” The father looks exasperated. His pondering look says he’s weighing a thought. 

“Louis, Brandon’s mum and I know you say you can’t do Saturday’s. We understand. You have to see your mum, but we were wondering, perhaps can you do Sunday? We hate to ask, we know your schedule is tight, two jobs, school, your ailing mum. Would you please consider Sunday though? The pys...person we have seeing Brandon thinks that if at least one weekend day if Brandon spent time with you, he might be happier on Monday. So would you try to consider if you could help us please?”

Louis looks conflicted. He makes more faces at the boy. It seeps into the boy’s resulute determination to stay affixed to his dad. The boy shows a tiny inkling of going from his father’s arms to Louis’. As Samantha told, Louis is a master child-wrangler.

“Professor Shrike, tell Amelia, I will think about it. I work the other job starting at 4 on Sunday. Maybe I can find a way to fit in a couple hours, say maybe one to three? No guarantees, just let me think about it. I’ll let you know next week. No promises though.” At that Louis opens his hands to show them to the child like an offer to come to them. He directs his words to Brandon. “Right now though I have a big problem. I need help putting together a new train and I don’t have a conductor, what am I going to do? Who can help me?”

Bingo the boy detaches from his father and grabs for Louis. This is when Harry notes the boy is wearing a fashionable child’s conductor style hat. He’s with Louis freeing his father to go. The fear Brandon had on his face is replaced with affection and trust in Louis. Louis is an acceptable substitute to dad or mum.

The professor signs his son in on the registry. He leaves. Louis turns to Harry. The child seeing a stranger standing there demonstrates his stranger-danger affliction by tucking into Louis, a thumb goes to mouth, his brows furrow giving Harry’s visual scolding in child-speak that says “Leave us offensive oaf.!”

“Louis” Harry says foreshadowing in an apologetic tone. “Would you accept these flowers of friendship and my greatest apology for last night? I was out of bounds in my presumption to think I know what is best. Sorry. Forgive me.”

It’s funny because as Harry spoke Louis took the child’s thumb from his mouth by moving the boy’s hand and sticking the child digit in his own mouth. It made the child loose his scow at Harry for a split second and the child brighten over Louis doing a funny, bizarre thing. 

Pulling Brandon’s hand from the boy’s mouth, taking the thumb into his instead was as if to gently suggest an idea to the boy, ‘not in your mouth’, like the act makes others want it too, Louis stares at Harry for a second or two. His stare is stern. Stern yet under it there is something Harry can feel. Chemistry. Louis doesn’t want to be mad. He pulls the hand away from his hold.

Louis keeps his eyes on Harry. “Brandon,” He says like the tot’s opinion matters, “Do you think I should accept the apology from Harry?”

The boy intensifies his scow at Harry. He whispers to Louis. “What?” Louis says, this half-secret conversation happening while Brandon is electing to stick his thumb in his mouth when Louis talks, Louis’ mouth when he whispers to Louis, “What do you say Brandon? Do I like Harry? Is he my friend? Well, yes Brandon. I do like Harry. Is he my friend? I don’t know. I would like him to be.”

Brandon whispers to Louis as he sticks his thumb in Louis’ mouth. Finishing his decision that Harry’s fate hangs in the balance he pops didn’t out, puts it on Louis’ shirt to grip, returns a mildly less sever look at Harry and lets Louis weigh Harry’s offense.

“Yes, Brandon, I do like him. I like him a lot. I like his smell. His dimples. His green eyes. His curls. I like his mouth accept when it chooses to speak about what it doesn’t understand. So yes. I like him very much. Friend? I don’t know. Should I try to find out.”

For the first time the tiny child smiles. He whispers to Louis again and quickly returns to look at Harry all ill will and malice gone from him. 

“You’re right Brandon. Second chance.”

***

Harry has updated his mum on everything as they sit a cafe for lunch. Anne knows all the new developments; the thing that happened at the club. The backstory from Liam. The apology Harry made in the morning with the flowers. The latter detail got Anne a little relieved because the other events Harry described were hard for her to hear about even though Harry paired details down.

“Harry I can only image Jay’s son being so creative and willing to risk to do the thumb thing with the child. Children are little disease incubators, but there Louis is dealing with a child, who from what you witnessed, has serious sensitivity issues and Louis helps him cope in that incredibly creative way. That despite knowing the child could be giving him any virus or whatever but he makes the child feel safe, to suggest the child choose to not use his thumb for comfort. He even elevated his trust of the child for the child to choose even for Louis, the adult, because for he and the child this is about who they each should choose to trust. He’s clearly brilliant with children. I wonder what field he’s planning to be in. He’d be an amazing person in any child welfare field. So beautifully innate. Smart. Quick thinker. Imaginative. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Their waiter comes by to freshen their water. “Are we still waiting for a third or are we ready to order?” He asks. 

Harry and Anne met here at 11 to have time to go over the new information having decided in the morning to move a prior planned meeting with Louis away from the hospital. Louis accepted the apology and the invite from Harry to lunch. His 7-11am shift at daycare was followed by an 11am class, he’d be free at noon for an hour than have classes from 1-3. 

“Yes we are still waiting for a third. Just water, thank you.”

Anne looks at her watch. It’s ten after noon. “Are you sure he’s coming? It’s ten after.”

“He said he’d be here. Promised. I think he keeps promises. I do think he runs late a lot...I mean clock out of the job at 11 the first class starts at eleven. I think he lives everyday saying one minute or one coin ahead of a breakdown. I really want to help him. Are you sure you can have Jay taken care of? I couldn’t bear to cause anything to happen to her. He’d never forgive me.”

“I’m sure Harry, oh, say, is that him?”

Harry looks around. Behind him in entering the door is Louis. Pixie Pan perfection scanning the room. Harry slips out of his seat to stand asking as he goes to do so “How did you know?”

Anne winks as Harry walks away, “Looks like Jay, tiny beauty.”

Harry greets Louis a little like a dog who knows they ate their masters favorite shoes and feels regret. Louis greets Harry like his reserved but kinda beating down an internal attraction. He graciously thanks Harry for the flowers that he’s leaving at work because all the girl staffers are enjoying them. Some of the staffers having seen Harry bring them want to know more about him, Louis tells Harry as Harry sort of leads him toward the table with a hand gently on Louis’ back. “...like asking if you are single, where I found you, are you into girls, it’s sort of a buzz in the kid zone since you left. Their overies in overdrive.”

Louis stops talking and freezes his tracks when he realizes that there is a woman seated at the table where they are heading to. He spins to look at Harry puzzled.

“Louis, this is my mum, Anne Styles. She’s joining us for lunch.”

Trepidation shows, Louis went from relaxed, almost free-spirited to tight, bundled, emotions shutting down. He says hello polite, his name, but even the touch of his hand as he shakes Anne’s says he’s already on to them.

Sat at the table, the waiter immediately pours a third water. Anne speaks first. 

“So Louis you are probably wondering why on eart Harry would invite his mother. So he told me he met this lad, last name Tomlinson. A mother named Jay, formerly of Doncaster. I knew a Jay Tomlinson years ago. She was a nurse where I was working my first job at a hospital. Is your mum from Doncaster? The Jay I knew was such a lovely person. I lost contact when I got a better job here in London.”

Louis looks at Harry. The snap to scowl at Harry much like the little toddler earlier says it all. They aren’t getting anywhere with this revised plan. Louis is not stupid. He jumps up from he’s seat. The sudden move takes a tray passing by in the hands of a waiter, full of dishes to deliver to the table next to them, to the air then crashing to the floor.

Louis looks to have sheer panic in his expression, “Y-y-you deceived me! You said lunch, to-to-to apologize! You never said your mum is involved, that, that, that she...what? What are you thinking! Do you think I don’t know it’s illegal to have the drugs! Do you think I’m not aware what they will do? They will pull the treatment, out her in hospice and she will die!”

The entire restaurant is quiet, staring their way. Louis is shaking standing there shouting. He’s restraining tears. 

He looks at Harry like Harry has devastated him before he suddenly turns to flee. 

Harry mum throws money on the table for food they never ordered. Maybe to pay for the tray Louis dumped in his sudden outburst from his seat. Mother and son make for the door as the room begins to buzz, all eyes still on them. Harry is on his phone as they hit the exit. 

Louis doesn’t answer his phone. Nor does Niall. Or Liam. Zayn does pick up. As soon as Harry starts to explain Zayn hangs up on him while mumbling something.

This is the last Harry hears from any of them other than recordings on their phone from their individual outgoing messages as they all decline his calls following the failed meeting attempt. Niall has taken an almost hostile afront to Harry’s attempts to catch him going to and from his flat. Louis is never seen. Niall only tells Harry that Louis is staying with a friend. At the club there is a new bartender working the shift that was Louis’, Harry learns. The daycare also has a substitute childcare worker filling in for Louis.

It’s Harry’s fault. The only friends he has other than the girls who all follow him like they are hopeful, excluding Sam, is a stray kitten he’s made friends with. He brings the kitten home despite the rules against that on his terms of lease. He names the kitten “Tommo” because it’s cute and feisty. It hisses at him a lot but sneaks into his bad at night to sleep with him only to hiss at him in the morning like Harry is the trespasser. 

Maybe the kitten is right. 

*** 

It’s been two weeks and no Louis. Two weeks since it became no pleasant words between him and his neighbor, Zayn, or Liam. The guy Shawn seems to be at Niall’s a lot. When he passes Harry in the hall or at the door he gives Harry a sympathetic look like he knows something about Harry. Harry has had daily conversations with his mum. She says she has things worked out to help Jay but she hasn’t been doing anything that names the patient because she is waiting for Harry to resolve things with Louis. 

Can Harry come for dinner on Sunday? Anne asks. Harry looks at the pile of dishes in his kitchen. Many with food he made but couldn’t eat because of his self-loathing. He looks at his pile of untouched dirty clothes laying at the door, his fear Niall’s schedule to wash means their awkward distance. “Sure, love to. Love you mum.” 

Sunday comes. Harry decided to buy something new to wear on his way to his dinner since he still had no clean clothes. He found himself drifting around in the men’s boutique to look at things he knew were Louis-style. He even bought a few things for Louis. Next he decided to drive by Jeremy’s. He has already done this so many times that he sort of knows Jeremy’s schedule. The last weekend he actually followed Jeremy from his to Jay’s. This confirmed she was getting her Saturday delivery. Jeremy stayed at her house long enough to be slightly social yet not at all like what Louis would typically do. Harry was heartbroken that he has caused Louis to abandon seeing her, a thing that probably sustains Jay Tomlinson as much as the drugs. 

Once at his parent’s home Harry is actually glad that it’s just he and his mum for dinner. His father is out of town for work. Gemma couldn’t join them. She is off on a weekend excursion with her new boyfriend. A quiet dinner with his mum is all Harry can muster. He can only think about Louis. 

Dinner with mother and son is very quiet. Harry gets a preview from his mum of how it would work to protect Jay from a sudden drop of the treatment. Harry gives her no answers about Louis. He has none to give. 

Harry is about to leave when the phone rings. He had hugged his mum goodbye, a foot out the door when Anne waves him to come back.

Harry hears half the conversation as his mum replies. Her hand gestures direct more to Harry, wanting him to stay. 

“Yes, this is the Styles...yes, yes...and you are looking for who?” 

Anne’s next gesture is very energetic, she jumps, puts a hand over her mouth, brings Harry close the her. 

“Yes, we do know a Harry Styles, I’m sorry though, can you please repeat your name?” 

No sooner has Anne asked the name be repeated than she changes her phone settings to speaker. 

A voice, weak but hopeful, one Harry knows from one meeting about two week ago, “This is Jay Tomlinson, I’m not sure but I think maybe if this is Anne formerly of Doncaster, before that from Homes Chaple, maybe we are acquainted...we worked in Doncaster at the same hospital years ago perhaps. I’m sorry again that I might be troubling you. Like I said I am looking for a Harry Styles. I’m wondering if he is the Harry who came to my house some time ago...maybe, just maybe he knows my son, Louis. I fear maybe Louis is in trouble.” 

A mother’s intuition. As much as Anne knew she had to see through helping Harry when she intuitively knew his heart was already lost to this Louis, as much the same, Jay intuitively knows something is wrong with Louis. 

A weak, tired Jay sounding Jay explains, “I am concerned about the change over two weeks with my son not calling me , not coming to see me on Saturday’s. His boyfriend came in his place. I could tell something was wrong though. He didn’t look me in the eye. This is why began calling people. First friends who have known him a long time, then I thought of Harry. I’ve called every Styles in every phone book and the Styles I found on internet searches. Coming across Anne Styles was momentous because it’s the last number to try and, ironically, one name that is familiar.” 

“Yes this is Anne formerly of Doncaster, Homes Chaple, and yes, I do know Harry Styles. That would be my son. In fact Harry is here with me now, and you’re welcome to speak with him, I have you on speaker phone.” 

“Hello Mrs Tomlinson, how are you doing?” Harry says. 

“Harry, sweetie, I told you to call me Jay. I'm afraid that I’m not doing so well. I can’t help but worry about Louis. He hasn’t been calling me like normal. Or coming by to see me on Saturdays. I’ve called all his old friends I know and they don’t have any answers for me so now I’m grasping for any information. I thought maybe Louis’ new friends might know something, I thought of you and Samantha. When did you last see or talk to Louis?” 

“That would be two weeks ago tomorrow.” Harry leaves out everything he could say. How he caused this. How Louis hasn’t been at his flat, or work, or school. 

“Oh.” A monosyllabic response that conveys too much sad for its brevity is all Jay can muster. 

Anne jumps in. “Jay would it be okay if we came to see you tomorrow? Harry knows the address. Maybe the three of us can come up with something about Louis to help. Would that be okay?” 

Jay sounds like she might be crying when she accepts their offer to visit. The impact of Harry’s meddling makes his heart ache for need to fix this. 

***

Monday late afternoon Harry is leaving the hospital where his mother is the administrator. 

Jay has been admitted to the hospital for some tests. This, turnabout happening after a lengthy morning visit with Jay that was to talk about Louis. Somehow Anne managed to slowly increment the conversation, taking a circuitous route Anne was able to without alarm, persuade Jay to do this. Anne made sure Jay was comfortable and those caring for her had boundaries on what to discuss around her or about her as to protect Jay’s tenuous situation with the treatment. 

What sounded at first like a good idea in concept, the idea Louis rejected without ever hearing, has been implemented. Now that it has Harry feels all the worse. He’s angry. Mostly at himself. He’s scared. For Jay and mostly for Louis. He decided to make another pass through Jeremy’s neighborhood. 

***

This is not Harry’s first time circling the block around Jeremy’s. He’s tried parking on the street before and watching but there is always so much street life. Not the desirable kind.

After several laps Harry just decides that he needs to park and watch. Study Jeremy’s lair.

An hour later Harry can’t take it anymore. He’s seen two people come to Jeremy’s and one person leave. It looks like there is some sort of party, small, but at least a gathering of some sort. Harry decides to walk to the door. 

He’s about to knock when a voice behind him catches him by surprise.

“Well hello there, we meet again.”

It’s Jeremy. He has ascended the steps to his porch behind Harry to Harry’s surprise. It is the same porch he and Harry encountered each only briefly about before. Jeremy hesitates not even one second to take Harry roughly by the arm, bringing Harry with him as he enters his house. As he pushes the door shut he uses a shove into Harry to push Harry against it pinning Harry there with one forearm pressing Harry’s neck to choke Harry. People in the room turn in to this aggressive move to support Jeremy like they are a pack of wild dogs; those who were sitting rise. Harry feels like he’s entered a cave of vampires and he is the prey.

“What do we have here?” One person says looking at Harry like he is a tasty treat. “Another pretty piece of arse for the sharing? Picking them off the street are we now Jeremy? Don’t want your prize to get all worn out.”

Harry can’t speak with the pressure on his neck. He makes a lot gasp to struggle free before he fades.

***

It’s dark when his eyes open. Dark except for one dim light across the room. Laughter from another room is what has woken him. He stands slowly. Seeing with only the small light he realizes he’s in a room with a large bed and very few other furnishings.

He takes one step toward a door and freezes.

He’s not alone.

On the bed someone is stirring restlessly for a second or two before coming to rest still again in a sprawled out, face down position.

There’s only one person in the world with a backside that distinctive. Louis. 

Harry rushes to the bed, “Louis!” He crawls over the bed and from his hands and knees hovering view tries to take it in. What has happened here? Deciding more light is needed he reaches for a small table lamp at bedside. Once the light is on Harry is face to face with hand written instructions scribbled on the wall over the lamp.

“Jeremy’s Rules for the Slut: there are none except no barebacking. Condoms required!”

This makes Harry shudder at what is a bunch of stuff that is laying around the base of the lamp. There is an assortment. Packages of condoms, lube, toys, a virtual adult store inventory of items.

Moving back over to Louis the inspection begins as Harry says his name again and again to no avail because Louis seems passed out.

Touching him gently Harry feels how cold his skin is with him lying there legs sprawled two different way arms stretched towards the headboard. It could be said he is naked except he has trappings. Around his neck is a black leather collar. His torso has a black leather harness that makes a bold “x” across his back and has a tight girth strap around his waist an o-ring at its center, no doubt one the same o-ring would be on the chest side. His wrist and ankles have black leather hobbles with o-rings as well. On the corners of the bed are the ropes for securing to the rings. Louis’ bum is bare but the first place Harry notices the bruises are across it. Basically most of him has some marks here or there. Bruise marks, lash marks bite marks.

Harry must remove these bondage straps so he begins with the two on Louis’ wrists while softly plying Louis to wake, “Louis, please wake up, it’s me, Harry.”

Wrist free he moves to ankles. “Please Louis, I’m here to take you home.” Harry puts a tiny kiss on the inside of an ankle because of the red mark he spots from the binding’s wear on skin. 

He unbuckles the choke collar next and has to take a centering breath before he begins to try to gently roll Louis over so as to unbuckle the torso harness. He has Louis half way over when Louis shrieks. The shriek has an immediate effect of making the sound of footsteps running suggesting the room of men heard Louis. It’s in a split second when the sound of a hand on the door knob has been met by Harry pushing a sturdy chair to jam in place arresting the entry attempt. 

Entry foiled by Harry’s quick action the sound of fists hitting the door from the other side is followed by curses.

“Fucking twat, you are aware you can’t go anywhere, the windows are boarded up you stupid cunt!”

There more punching and kicking at the door. More cursing. “He will be wanting you out soon enough. All it takes is one phone call to Mum and Louis will break, we can wait.” The second voice, the voice of reason, sounds like Jeremy. “Come on. Leave them be. Louis will persuade him to satisfy the master.”

Harry turns from the door with the trouble temporarily pushed aside only to see a Louis who has backed himself up the bed to its headboard, his legs bent, feet tucked in arms around his legs and having taken a flimsy sheet to himself trying to conceal what he can. His face is something that seems spared abuse more than the rest of him. There’s only one severe bruise on his jaw right beside his lips. His eyes look full of fear almost like he’s never seen Harry before.

Harry holds back from going to him upon seeing the foggy, semi delirious state Louis appears to suffer.

“Louis? Louis, it’s me. Harry. You’re neighbor. I’m here to help you. To take you home. Take you to your mother, it’s okay. They can’t get in. You’re safe now.”

Louis looks around the room like maybe a magic portal could appear. He bites his lips. He shakes his head “no” while remaining silent. In the quiet Harry can hear his breathing is rapid. He could be drugged maybe with something that is masking his perception. 

“Louis please. I will not hurt you. Please. Just let me finish removing the leather straps. You still have one around your torso. Can I undo that please? It looks tight at the bottom around the waist. Too tight. Can we get that off of you?”

Louis takes his arms away from holding his legs tucked to himself. While trying to hide his bare body under the flimsy sheet he touches the harness. “Tight.” He says. “Too tight.” He adds taking his eyes off Harry for the first time, eyes that kept a glare on Harry with fright. Then he says in a voice slightly changed like he is taking in some comprehension, “Key. Over there. Key.”

Harry looks to where Louis’ nod directs him. A tiny gold key sits on a tall bureau. 

Harry takes the key. He looks at it. Then he takes one step toward Louis only to stop as Louis shrieks. “No, no, no! Stop! Toss it. Toss me the key!”

Harry tosses the key. “Okay Louis. But I won’t hurt you. It’s Harry. Your neighbor. I’m here to rescue you. Remember? You called me your hero?”

Harry takes the glare of distrust that Louis flashes at him as his hand finds where the key has landed on the bed. Is this Louis’ way of saying “Suck it arse, you blew it that day at lunch!” Harry can’t be sure. He knows however Louis isn’t trusting anyone.

Key in hand his hand slips from sight. His struggle is evident immediately. Soon he has to shove some of the sheet away so as to try to see the tiny gold lock. He struggles more. This is killing Harry. 

Then in an instant Louis stops trying to fit the key. He flings it to the foot of the bed. His hand goes over his face. He unfolds himself from his protective clamshell and though shaken tearful sounding voice resigns himself. “Fine, I can’t do it. Please, please help me.”

Harry swoops to him with Louis fully yielding almost to an extent he could be fainting though his eyes, tearful remain open. Harry knows they have found his face to study as Harry fiddles with the key and the lock. It’s hard for Harry to fit too but he does have success once he has Louis laying down flat. It feels like where the waist strap of the harness encircles Louis just below his ribs is so tight as to nearly cut him if not for sure bit into and bruise the bottom set of ribs.

As soon as the lock frees the tension Harry lifts Louis only ever so slight with a hand to the back of his neck as to allow pulling the harness from under Louis. Louis continues a mute stare at Harry. It’s an mix of emotion Harry is at a lost to interpret. 

And then Louis just cries.

*** 

Harry is able in tiniest of increments to get himself closer and closer to Louis after that. First he gets the sheet fully blanketing Louis. Next he scoots ever so slightly into Louis’ space. His first touch is his hand over a hand of Louis’ hidden under the blanket. When he’s so close he can make Louis’ hair move by his soft breathing with his head beside Louis’ he stops. Doesn’t want to break the progress, he only says one word. “Better?”

Louis doesn’t reply. He’s sleeping. Exhausted by two week of this. Freed only slightly. Louis begins to slumber with a soft barely audible snore that would be cute if the cause of it were not so horrific to consider its cause.

***

Because loud, drunken laughing voices come to the door Louis wakes. Because taunts are spoken from the opposite side of the door Harry is able to take Louis in arms. Louis is shaking, terrified, tucking into Harry whom he’d refused to trust until the lock on the harness forced him to comply to Harry’s offer. 

As Jeremy and others beat on the door, make threats, slut shame and guarantee Harry’s gay-ass fate will be no better than Louis’. Louis again begins to cry. He doesn’t let them hear him though. He hides his face in Harry’s chest and tries to do this quietly. And then Jeremy says the trigger.

“Louis baby. Be a good boy. Come to daddy. Pull the chair from the door. Wanna talk to you mummy? She’s on the phone right now. Come on Princess, be a good boy. Pull the chair. Daddy will be real good to you after. These blokes can have your pretty friend for a change, it will be just you and me.”

Louis’ reaction is to jerk away from Harry. He jumps out of bed like to reach for the chair but not before Harry grabs Louis in a full body bear hug to gently put a stop of him with Harry keeping his restraint of Louis as soft as possible. Whispering against the side of Louis’ head as Louis struggles to break free Harry says, “Don’t give into that Louis, he’s telling a lie Louis, Jay can’t be calling you. Jeremy is making that up. She’s not able to call now. She’s safe, but she’s at London Central Hopsital, she’s getting a full screening. She’s not on the phone now, I promise you, she can’t be. He’s trying to deceive you.”

Louis won’t stop the attempt to wiggle free of Harry. As he fights to slip out of Harry’s arms Harry can feel how Louis has no strength. This threat on the other side of the door needs to end soon as Harry hears what he thinks sounds like the men starting to remove hinges to one screw at a time to release the door. They have Harry’s cell phone. They have Louis’ too. There is no way for Harry to get help. All Harry has is the leverage of the value of what is squirming in his arms.

“You’re saying that Jay’s is on the phone for Louis, is that so Jeremy?” Harry is sure his disbelief can be heard in his tone, “Really? Okay then. Tell her to talk loudly, that you are putting her on speaker phone. Let us hear her voice. After all, usually Louis is tied up while here, right? Tell her that. Tell her her son’s hands are busy, you can leave out that he would be working your cock if you could get your hands on him, just say his hands are tied, and that she needs to talk loudly. Put the phone by the door so we can hear her.”

Louis pauses the struggle. Harry’s bright idea makes him pause.

There is silence on the other side of the door. Then some scuffling. Then some silence. Maybe a hint of whispering. Then a reply.

“Well she isn’t up for that.”

Harry slathers more snarky undertone to his next statement. “Oh really. Wonder why. When has she ever not been up to the call from her son before? It’s not that late. She not likely in bed. When did she hear from him last? Wouldn’t she be anxious to talk to him now?In fact doesn’t Jay normally talk to her son everyday, sometimes more than once? Isn't Louis normally very a very devoted son who in fact talks to his mum at least three times a day? So why should she be not answering Jeremy? Could it be she isn’t home. For your information Jeremy, I’ll tell you why. Jay is safe right now, at a hospital where right this instant she couldn’t know her son is calling her phone because she is getting screening done. Oh but you would not know that because you’re the stupid wanker that thought you could control someone by praying on their devotion to their sick mother. Furthemore Jay is with someone at the hospital who knows precisely where I went earlier this afternoon. What happens when I don’t check in? I did say I was coming to this address, to talk to you, to see if the so-called boyfriend has any news on Louis.”

There is more scuffling sounds and terse kind of hushed whispering among the men. Louis is still in Harry’s arms. It’s taken him hearing there is hope for some sense to take hold in his brain. He takes to Harry’s softening hold by not trying any extraction of himself from it. Indeed Louis pulls Harry’s arms to where he likes them resting around him like Harry is a giant bear rug. Louis wrapped with Harry like this listens. Trying not to breathe too loud. Listening, listening, the sound of removing screws for hinges has stopped.

***

It was hard after the house quieted to wait in the room where evidence of Louis’ abuse abounded everywhere but Harry had to be certain before he pulled the chair that restricted the door to risk bringing Louis out.

Harry had just did exactly this, he pulls the chair, peaks out the door, when he heard a voice announcing police were entering the premise. Anne had called them after her numerous calls to Harry went unanswered. His phone showed he was at Jeremy’s address. The police spotted the car registered to Harry Styles parked near a house that the Head Administrator the at London Central Hospital alerted them that she suspected a crime was in process. Adding that her own son had gone to a residence where an indidvual is suspected of illiegally selling valuable cancer treatment drugs on a black market. This gave the authorities probable cause to check the premise. Two of the officers who entered the place had routinely worked the area and always felt there was “suspicious activity” at that very address.

Fortunately for Jeremy, he had left the premise; he and his cohorts who were unsettled by the prospects of someone checking on Harry’s whereabouts. Jeremy was going to see if Jay was at home and missed being encountered at the scene by the police. Unfortunately for Jeremy he left on his kitchen table the vials of medicine he had for the next Saturday visit to Jay. When the police entered they found Harry Styles releasing himself from a back room where he was barricaded in self defense, drug evidence to support the claims made by the hospital administrator and another lad riddled with evidence of abuse who had been a hostage for some time.

Louis was taken to the hospital. Harry gave a statement of the events that transpired before he too was escorted to the hospital to reunite with his battered friend whose disappearance was at the center of his going to the address. At the hospital Anne made sure Louis was kept overnight for treatment for dehydration and malnourishment while the hospital did a full exam and tested him for STDs. Jay was only informed that she would likely see Louis the following morning with Anne opting to not tell Jay what the story of Louis’ unusually distant behavior was a result of, not until after Louis had a night to recuperate with good care. 

***  


It was just a little over a week ago when, just like again on this morning, Harry missed his classes to because of Louis.

Last week Harry wasn’t concerned about skipping classes two consecutive days because he only wanted to be at the hospital early for Louis on Tuesday morning in the event Louis’ woke before the hour Harry’s mum suggested Louis might. Zayn, Niall, and Liam all wanted to go to the hospital then too; each of them felt very disappointed in themselves that they let Jeremy convince them that things with he and Louis were alright. After all Louis had talked to them briefly, only to confirm he was fine with Jeremy. They realized too late that they should have done as Harry did.

Harry had brought to the hospital with him one of the new shirts he bought for Louis and some things he got from Niall of Louis’ so when dressed Louis would look as nice as possible for seeing Jay for the first time in a couple weeks. It still hangs with Harry as he heads out his door how Louis looked only a week ago.

The day after his freedom was forced Louis was still sleeping when Harry quietly entered the hospital room. He looked more pale than normal. The one bruise seemed muted only slightly by the restful night, but that didn’t change the what Harry expected to see once Louis was freed from hell. Harry had imagined that Louis might have just sprouted wings during the night like only an actual angel, not a fake one like Jay thought Jeremy was. This metamorphosis triggered by Louis’ acts of enduring what Louis had in order to fight for his mum’s life. In Harry’s imagination Jeremy, in reality, might have sprouted blood dripping fangs and claws being the incarnation of Cain. 

Today, just one day shy of a full week later, when Harry knocks on the door of the flat next door to his Louis opens it quickly being obviously eagerly ready to go, looking as flawless as ever. He is wearing the same shirt Louis wore that day at the hospital to see Jay after far too long being forced apart. The gifted shirt from Harry compliments Louis’ eyes which now seem to almost sparkle with happeiness as Louis greets Harry.

“Curly!” Louis pipes, giving Harry a hug and a peck on the cheek as he steps out of his flat. The nickname has become commonly used since Harry has been Louis constantly as much as they can going forward following the rescue about a week ago. 

Harry runs his hands over Louis back, checking again for those wings like he does everytime Louis hugs him. Pulling back after their hug, taking Harry’s hand, Louis chirps on. “I knew you were serious when you said you’d walk me to work today but you really don’t need to make yourself get up this early and risk missing another class. Really. I’m fine. You know Jeremy won’t risk coming anywhere near me. He won’t want to break his terms of bail. Really. I’m fine walking to work myself.”

Though Louis says Harry doesn’t need to walk him, the hand holding is a hint that he likes it so Harry’s doesn’t let go. Also Louis keeps glancing at Harry as they walk like he is a little shy to let on that he actually can’t stop himself from looking at Harry. 

“Yes, I know Jeremy can’t afford to risk anything. He’s in enough trouble as is, but like I said last night, I want to be there on your first day back at the daycare. I want to see the reaction, I want see each and every child’s face when they come to be dropped off and discover that you are back. I especially want to see that little Brandon. This is far better than sitting through a couple boring classes.”

They talk about Jay next. Louis is thrilled she got out of the hospital mid-week and back home with place a home-care nurse is scheduled do the daily visits which had previously been taken care of by neighbors and friends as arranged by Louis. The new care was orchestrated by Anne through some program administered by a non-profit. In addition Louis babbles on excitedly about the other thing that might come out of all of this narfarious mishandling of drugs by Jeremy. “And today we find out the other potential good news, is that right? Your mum will call you as soon as she knows? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if me mum knew that something good can come of all this? I’d love for her to stop focusing on Jeremy’s deception. She needs only positive things around her, hopeful things.” 

“Yes Louis, yes,” Harry says almost laughing because Louis is almost skipping with happiness, at least his feet seem to hardly stay grounded like indeed those angel wings are there giving him lift. Maybe they are invisible. 

“Today we should know if the pharmaceutical company considers the astounding results from Jay’s data enough evidence to run another series of trials, but like we were told, it’s hard to say what they will decide. Your mum is only one individual from a category of patients they thought unsuitable. The protocol for her treatment too inconsistent because there were those times like when Jeremy smashed a vial to torture you. Be prepared they might decide her data set is too inconclusive, but at the end of the day like mum said, the drug companies only want to make money. Lets hope the data from your mum is enough for them to like more people who can show improvement like she has with their drug the more money they make.” 

Louis stops them on the sidewalk and makes a quick passing kiss before pulling Harry on. “Just the possibility of other people being helped is enough for me to celebrate, as soon as possible, before we know for sure incase they decide no. Let’s do something special, before your mum calls later. Hey, how about we meet back at home at lunch. Celebrate someplace private. Where we can be alone.” 

Harry gets a distinct feeling Louis means celebrate in some intimate way, not like some traditional celebration with a fancy meal and some champagne. When Louis looks at him as he walks hand in hand, waiting for and answer, checking Harry’s disposition to the suggestion with a slight blush to his cheeks, Harry is sure. Louis... 

... wants celebration sex. 

... would be his and Louis’ first. 

“Sure Louis. Sure okay. We can meet up after at noon after your eleven o’clock class to walk to back to yours, or mine whichever, to be alone.” 

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand. He smiles brightly at Harry with a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. Harry is about to pull away so they can walk on when Louis pulls him back and kisses his lips this time. Though it is not a long kiss, it’s one with intent, meaning. Harry relalizes Louis has gone on his tippy toes to do this, this their only kiss on lips since the day in the bathroom of Louis and Niall’s apartment when Louis was a shadow of the dimensional person he is to Harry now. At that time Harry thought Louis was only a slut, a player. And now? 

Now Louis is an absolute angel to him. An angel in a pixie form who one day will surely grow those wings. 

***

Walking back home at lunch break Louis gives Harry as many more details about the morning daycare as he can. He seems to rather enjoy that conversation far more than the query Harry made about his class, did he have a lot of work to makeup? Was it going to be hard to make up all the work after two weeks of missed classes? 

That’s when Louis changes the subject completely. “Can we go to yours? Niall and Shawn might be at mine.”

Harry is curious. “How is that going?”

“Oh, you know, they are in that new-love stage. All heart eyes and giggles. It’s sweet actually, Niall deserves it.”

Harry notes how Louis looks down as he says “heart eyes” like he wants to hide the ones he has had for Harry as they walk. Nevermind that Hary can almost believe he sees rainbow heart emojis drifting off Louis back like bubbles floating to the sky his crush on Harry so obvious even though there has been no discussion of their feelings for each other yet.

“Does Shawn know about you and Niall? Do you think he is at all jealous?”

Louis snorts. “Me and Niall, whatever do you mean? There was never a me and Niall. Just roommates.”

Harry looks at Louis with disbelief. “Really? Come on Louis. You know even if I didn’t see you that one day in the laundry I still know the routine. Sunday the countdown started, did you have enough money or did your friends need to make up the difference,”

Louis halts. Places a set of fingers over Harry’s lips. He pulls them away having done this to silence Harry. Speaking with firmness to his voice, a voice devoid of anger even though Harry realizes he hit a nerve, Louis defends himself. 

”Sounds like I’ve been such a slut doesn’t it? See the thing is there has always been just a friendly thing in that. Nothing more. My pride just got in my way about taking their money. My pride, just the one thing I couldn’t sell. But I never wanted to be seen in that way as just a piece of arse. That’s why I wouldn’t do things for people I didn’t like, like Jeremy as I learned he only wanted to show me off. He didn’t really have feelings for me. He was pleased with my fat bum. He got into saying that about two months into our relationship. At first I thought it was a phase. Then he began inviting friends over to watch, liking the way they would wank off watching him fuck me. Telling me it was a real turn on.

“Eventually I realized his fantasies were getting worse. It was no longer that we wanted diffent things in life, like I wanted kids, he didn’t, it was no longer that he wasn’t really a tender lover cause he was never tender at all. I was just cute to look at with a fat, fuckable bum. That’s all he cared about.”

Louis resumes walking. The malice that developed in his voice was directed only at Jeremy but Harry being the fool to incite the painful retroflection feels shame.

“I’m sorry Louis. I would never call you a slut. Or anything like that. Even when you were working the club and some guys were flirty with you, hardly can blame them because you looked so hot the way you dress for working there, but you always made it clear you weren’t selling it. Just drinks.” Harry then decides to change the subject again. “I’ve always wanted children too. If m’preg became possible I’d sign up for it.”

The tactic works though Louis is still struggling to let go of his demon Jeremy. “I asked Jeremy once would he consider giving me a child if we could do that so the baby would be his dna. You know what he did. He slapped my arse and said he only wanted my bum to be fat, not the rest of me. He didn’t want any babies, spawned or adopted. Who talks like that? Who calls their offspring spawnlings?”

Harry knows the answer. “Bad boyfriend.” Rather than broach the subject of Harry’s own bad boyfriend he changes the subject. “Saw Liam on my way to class after I left you this morning. He said he was changing his work hours at the club because they were having you come back if you would. The head manager is supposed to call you. Seems that your crew is missing you. Liam says they’re talking about offering you better shifts, now that you can take any of them other than Saturdays. Sounds good, don’t you think? And Liam said he wants to work around his boyfriend’s schedule more. More time for them now that it’s possible. Would love to know who Liam is into, he’s sort of a mystery.”

Louis takes Harry’s hand back with his, a sign he’s shaken off the unsettling talk about Jeremy. “You know him already Harry. It’s Zayn. I cannot believe you haven’t realized Liam and Zayn are together.”

What? The rest of the way Harry and Louis talk about Ziam. Louis has many funny stories about them at the start. Mostly how difficult it was for them to first admit their feelings, then go on from there. They have entered their building taking the stairs to the second floor which houses their mutual flats as Louis was saying how the issue of who tops with Ziam was solved easily once they began a kind of sharing that. The who tops subject makes Harry think about how it was the cause of his breakup. By extension he thinks that subject is the cause of an incarnation of a phantom he spots in the hall on the second floor of their building standing at Harry’s door. 

That is until Louis says something to the hallway phantom, a stranger to him. “Well hello. Are you looking for someone?”

Standing in the hall a tall, rakishly handsome man in his mid twenties holding a huge bouquet of expensive floral selections is no phantom but a bad boyfriend. Harry’s Bad Boyfriend. 

“Arthur?”

“Harry!”

Louis looks at Harry.

Harry looks at Louis then back at Arthur. 

“What are you doing here?”

Arthur steps away from Harry’s door to come to him. He pulls out a box, puts one knee on the hallway floor and with care not to drop the flowers Bad Boyfriend opens the small box. There’s a ring.

“I’m here to win you back. I’m here to promise you all those things you wanted. My devotion to you, you alone, a family, all that. I love you Harry and desperately want you back. Please forgive me, let me try again. I promise never to cause you sorrow again.”

***

Having to introduce Arthur and Louis to each other was hard. 

Not nearly as hard as it became over the next several days with Arthur actively working on making good his promises to Harry while, once again, Harry’s sightings of Louis became far too few. 

From the momoent Louis accepted this startling appearance of a former lover, Louis shyly bowed out of the “private lunch plans” leaving Harry and his Bad Boyfriend Ex together as Louis fiddled with keys to his flat while Harry was more or less presumed by Arthur to be acdeotung his request for forgiveness. Even though Harry didn’t put Arthur’s ring on his finger, or say yes to anything...really. Harry dint say “no”, Arthur just pushed ahead. “Oh I know Harry you need a little time before you can decide but let’s get caught up and have some time a l o n e together...”

“Alone together”. That is what Harry and Louis were on their way to. Arthur blathered on about that as Harry opened his door while the next door over his neighbor Louis does the same. It is a struggle for Louis. Louis had taken one last look at Harry before he entered his flat, sadness on his face and confusion. Harry’s never said anything about a boyfriend to Louis before; Harrry is sure Louis had no expectation there was some romance looming. Now, even without Harry making any renewed commitment to Arthur, Louis looks to resign from any advances with Harry.

Once in Harry’s flat Arthur assumes he can just move on behaving in a very different way than the man who cheated on Harry months ago, carving out Harry's heart. Even though one of Arthur’s first acts is to get on his hands and knees on Harry’s bed, lube in hand preparing to be prepped for bottoming, the eagerness and sincerity to working with Harry’s desires this doesn’t convince Harry’s heart to flutter for like it did for Arthur before.

In place of pattering for Arthur is a yearning in Harry’s heart for Louis, if only to see his smile. Feel his hand in Harry’s. Quite frankly the sight of Arthur arse prone pretending he’s excited to be sexually “more flexible sex with Harry” doesn’t help Harry put aside any thoughts of Louis. It only makes them worse. 

Harry almost tries to look at this strange turn with Arthur like this is in earnest; Arthur immediatley trying to be the partner Harry wanted when Harry was kicked out of his Bad Boyfriend’s life, unceremoniously. 

There’s a problem. Arthur’s bum is a very tradionally conformed man’s bum. His hips are angular. Louis’ bum is all curves, full, plump. The only angles that are on Louis are his collarbones, his jawline, his cheekbones. In hidden aggravation with the sight of Arthur’s less than pleasing posterior Harry declines to take the opportunity to top. He knows why though he doesn’t share an explanation with Arthur; he can only see Louis’ bum in his mind. Louis being filled with Liam’s massive dick, Louis being wrecked by Zayn’s force, Louis pounded by Niall. To blank these images from his mind Harry allows the sex to happen between he and his ex with them each taking their traditional roles. He tells himself it’s because Louis was too quick to slink away after the off-putting introduction. That presents a sinking idea which leaves Harry feeling like he’s the whore. 

It’s by Wednesday, Arthur still devotedly cooing over Harry’s every desire, that Harry decides he has to see Louis. Harry gets up extra early. He wants to try to can catch Louis leaving for work and escort him to the daycare job.

Arthur’s wakes early too. He insists that he make Harry breakfast, a thing he’s never done for Harry before, then he wants to see Harry’s new campus so he invites himself to walk Harry to Uni for a tour. 

Harry’s attempt to say they didn’t have time before his first class, maybe some other time is defeated by the fact Harry got up so early. All Harry can do if he wants to see Louis is to put the faculty daycare on the tour. They swing by there. Harry acts like this not just senseless point of interest, hinting this is a test, to readdress Arthur’s alleged change in view on children. Harry admits he’s skeptical that Arthur feels any different on the subject. Desire, or not, to have kids is a deal breaker. Once at the faculty Arthur makes a point to identify this child or that child as cute, like some are suitable, as much as how one would select a dog from the shelter. That is until he spots Louis coming out from a back section of the daycare with a toddler in arms. 

“Oh hey, isn’t that your neighbor, Lewis?”

“Louis. His name is Louis.”

Louis spots them as he must sense two pairs of eyes are watching him. He doesn’t smile, he only sort of makes an eye roll. Another staffer appears to be coming to inquire with them when Louis looks to have said he will take care of it. With the toddler in his in arms he comes through the child safe door to the reception area. The particular toddler he carries has a pacifier in mouth and a massive case of snotty nose as well as everywhere on the child’s clothing.

“Harry, Arthur, what are you doing here? Can I help you with something?”

“Arthur wanted a tour of campus.” Harry says as he becomes aware of a few things. First Louis is wearing one of the shirts Harry bought Louis. It appears to be a favorite because Louis wears it a lot. Maybe because it looks so good on him. Or maybe because it came from Harry...

Secondly the toddler has a new green trail of snot beginning to leak out her nose. Harry’s has to admit it’s repulsive. 

Yet, thirdly the sight of the infectious glob makes Arthur’s face go all weird. Louis stares at Arthur while Harry tells Louis where they are going next as Louis takes his shirt sleeve and wipes the child’s offending snot like it’s nothing. He must be deliberate in wanting to make Arthur feel queasy because Louis laughs when Arthur does a move like he might vomit from the sight.

***

Later that day Arthur is at the campus path waiting to meeting Harry as he walks from campus. Harry was hoping he might encounter Louis leaving too so this hovering, doting boyfriend thing is wearing thin. The next thing Arthur says makes it all seem better.

“The minute I came out of our flat the neighbor was coming in, said to come over for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind, I said we’d love to.”

Harry didn’t correct the words “our flat”. He just says that will be great. Can Louis cook? No. Does it matter? Not in the slightest. 

***

Thursday Harry is home from school, showered looking his very nicest for dinner. He was sure to select a shirt that rollls open with ease to show his nips in tiny little glimpses. This preparation is not lost on Arthur who also dresses very pleasingly, much too nice it seems, for what is to be a casual dinner at a neighbor’s.

They go next door with some fine wine Arthur spent his day making it a project of searching for while Harry was at classes all day. One knock, the door opens. 

It’s Shawn. Shawn welcomes them, Niall calls to them from where he is busy in the kitchen. Harry realizes that it was Niall who saw Arthur in the hallway, having heard about Harry’s mysterious boyfriend from Louis, who decided to invited them over. How sweet. Not only was it not an invite from Louis; there is also no Louis joining them. A table is set for four, not five.

Three hours into excruciating conversations about couples stuff with Arthur portraying his and Harry’s history as him being, the perfect, “though a little distracted boyfriend to Harry”, when Harry can’t take anymore of this.

“Where is Louis tonight?” Harry blurts out. It’s sush a brash, bold a shut down upon the natural flow of conversation that everyone stops to look at him. How odd is written on their faces.

Trying to recover Harry says, “Um, I mean it’s pretty late. Isn’t Louis trying to catch up on school work? Shouldn’t he be home studying or is he at the library tonight doing makeup work or something?”

Niall and Shawn do that couples eye contact thing that says “We know something that is a secret.” Then Niall says, “Work. He’s at work. Got old shifts back. New shifts, better ones. Works five days including two of the busiest nights. Thirsday nights being one.”

Shawn nods at Niall like the answer is a well played lie. Not too much just enough, leave it there.

Harry doesn’t leave it. “I thought he wasn’t starting the other job back until next week, you know, so he has time to catch up on missed assignments.”

“You’ll have to ask him about that.” Is all Niall says. 

After that all Harry can do is want the exit strategy from the night to begin. He fast tracks everything, including doing clean up, he short-shrifts every line of discussion. Once they are out the door of Niall’s flat he becomes reinvigorated from the tired Harry who wanted to turn in as he made excuses to leave. Transformed he says, “Hey Arthur, we really haven’t been out since you came here. I know a good club. Wanna go?”

Arthur liked the idea of bed when they left the neighbors. He thought it meant...sex. However as Harry acts seductive but reserved, like the potential of some public grinding is foreplay, the thought of going out is a lot more appealing.

***

Did Louis have to be wearing the bear attack shirt again? Really? Most his soft belly exposed, a nip on one side easily pokes out, his collarbones, the shapely, firm arms revealed and from the back the shirt revealing the way his lower back arches into a meeting with the world’s best booty know to mankind...really! 

Sure enough working the bar of the club is Louis. No longer coated in toddler-snot Louis but the most twink-forward, body-exposed, super-energetic-in-a-so-sassy with his wit as to make one want to spank him, is bartender Louis. By quietly prying the doorman for information as they came in Harry learned Louis came in to fill in to work ahead of his new schedule planned for next week. It happened because Louis himself called at 3:30 and asked if he could wait tables. Something like he needed to be out of his flat that night. Management soon elected to put him behind the bar because Louis walking the floor is always trouble. Too many people, men and women, wanting to pat the booty...”you know, you’re his friend right? Leave him out there among the wild and people will pick him up, put him in a pocket and take off with him” the doorman has to add winking at Harry. “Everybody loves Louis!” He says as he turns some away, stamps the hands of others, does his job the same as all the while he chats with Harry.

Once in the club it doesn’t take long for Arthur to pick Louis out. At first It’s just a “Hey isn’t that you neighbor Lew...Louis?” 

Harry nods and pretends he’s not paying any attention Louis. Soon Arthur’s comments to shift to studied observations. “So that Louis, he sure is popular with the boys.” 

To next, “Wanna take a seat at the bar? The floor waitresses are so slow. Bet Louis gives you better service being neighbors.” 

Right. Whatever that use of “service” really means. But no sooner do they sit at the bar than a bucket of ice with a nice bottle of champagne gets plopped in front of them as Louis passes where they are sat. He leaves it while saying nothing more to them than “On the house! Back with some glasses!” 

Harry looks at Arthur with a look that says, “Really! Again? You are aware you’re need for good sub is what broke us.” Those words are never uttered aloud. When Louis comes back. He places two glasses. He proceeds to open the champagne but not without a struggle that results in Louis putting the bottle between his thighs to do so. Harry can’t be sure but he thinks he hears his lover, so called reformed lover, intended fiancé, make that sound one makes when they whine for it because the act of another is so sensual. 

Louis pours two small serves then springs off to signaled away by another patron who calls Louis “sweet cheeks” as he pays for his drink. 

Harry has to stop this misery he’s putting himself through so he gets Arthur to the dance floor. Perhaps the champagne, one small glass, after wine with dinner, cocktails while dancing was foolish because Harry finds himself at times wanting to grind on Arthur. At other times Harry’s wandering eyes follow Louis. Whenever Harry looks at Louis when he is facing Arthur the act is caught by Arthur. At one point Arthur calls Harry on it saying, “Harry since Louis so fascinating why don’t we just finish our champagne at the bar.” 

They sit again. Arthur’s rubs Harry’s back but watches Harry watching Louis. Or he watches Louis who doesn’t watch anything but the bar looking for who has an empty glass. Who has a drunk date. Who has a need for a laugh. He does his job and pointedly doesn’t look at Harry. 

Could things get worse? 

A little later Zayn shows up at the club coming to the bar near the waitress station the tell-tale cue to indicate ‘I’m not here for a drink but for information of some urgency’. Louis goes to him immediatley. Harry is sure they are talking about Liam. Louis seems to indicate with a nod toward the back. Harry can surmise Zayn is here to see Liam, but that Liam is in the back detained with managerial duties. 

Zayn seems content to sit there in an anti social setting. It appears that he only wants Liam. 

Harry makes eye contact with Zayn but Zayn only waves, stays put. Arthur inquires about who that guy is. Harry identifies. “Good friend. Dates a manager, most likely waiting for his boyfriend.” 

Arthur mumbles how many of Harry’s London friends are very attractive. Harry drinks another glass like it’s a shot. The impact of too much is obvious at once but Harry kind of doesn’t care. Off to the side Louis is happy, chirping with customers, keeping eyes off Harry and Arthur. 

When a relief bartender comes and taps Louis for a break Louis only goes as far as where is Zayn sits there with Zayn who receives him affectionately. Louis drinks water. And he smokes. 

No. He smokes what Zayn passes him like they do. 

The point is. Louis and Zayn sharing a smoke is sexy as fuck. And Harry thinks Louis might be doing this deliberately. To be sure Harry is certain Louis is aware how sensual it is when they do this. 

*** 

Harry’s arse is sore the next day. He was drunk and Arthur was alpha. Harry really can’t care. Arthur is happy the next day like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Harry’s drunken acceptance of Arthur is certainly promoting the wrong idea about Harry’s leanings. 

For Harry, everything has happened wrongly. For starters puke-arse, Ex/Bad Boyfriend renentered his life and has made what was almost a good thing with Louis fizzle. The warmest thing about Louis since Puke Arse resurfaced is that Louis is very polite to Harry, like he owes Harry a gratitude, but aside from that the only glimmer that Harry means anything to Louis is how Louis frequently wears the clothes Harry bought him. 

Saturday comes. Harry has accepted an invite to his parent’s. They want to meet Arthur since they never have. Harry has yet to tell them there is a marriage proposal in the balance, only telling them that Arthur came to London to make up. 

It’s painful at Harry’s parents to hear Arthur do the exact same thing he did two nights ago at dinner with Niall and Shawn. Only now to add salt to a wound Arthur has taken it next level. He has perfected his script of them for the Styles. 

It is nothing like the truth. The story Arthur tells of them. 

Harry lets it go. He has got thoughts of Louis on the brain. After a while Anne takes notice of her son’s quietness. After the main course she ask Harry to help her plate desert. “Let the men talk” she says witha pat on Harry’s hand. 

Alone in the kitchen she takes up her concern. “Harry. What is gong on? Don’t tell me you’re happy when I know your not. What is going on with you and Arthur?” 

“It’s Louis.” Harry’s says shyly. Even though he and his mum are very close he’s worried too open his feelings. “We were getting really close, you know? On the day Arthur showed up at mine I thought me and Louis were about to take it to the next level. Even though what Arthur said to me at the door, his proposal pushing Louis aside, even though all I ever wanted from Arthur he said then, right in front of Louis but, I, I...I think I had moved on from him finally. In my broken misery my concern for Louis’ consumed my own pain, put the Arthur stuff in perspective. Louis’ showed me what real pain is, what real love is. To do what he had to, to suffer like he has...but then Arthur just stepped in. Right when we were close to something intimate. From then on Louis has withdrawn, cooled off to me. He hardly acknowledges me.” 

Anne brushes her son’s cheek. Kisses the other. “Harry, you need to follow your heart. Arthur seems like a fine man but I know Louis is exceptional. He’s loving, fiercely devoted, sweet. He’d make a perfect partner. But he does have issues. He’s been through a lot. You’re both so young. You’re going to have to risk a little to win him I think. You didn’t have anything clearly defined between you when Arthur showed up, with flowers, a ring, a desire to win you back. What would you do if you were Louis?” 

Harry looks at her. His mum. Always so wise. 

“I’d like to call Louis while Arthur is distracted with proving himself to my parents, but I think Louis is with Jay, you know it being Saturday. I don’t want to intrude on their time...it’s just I miss him so much. Once he was free of Jeremy we were together every day. And now, now the only connection I see to him is when I realize how frequently Louis is wearing the clothes I bought for him. Louis is not one for doing his laundry, so that’s an effort.” 

Anne makes the mother face that says “trust me”. She takes Harry’s phone from him to hand it back for emphasis. “Harry. Call him. Tell him you want to make a plan to talk tomorrow. Talk to him face to face. Tell Louis you had no idea Arthur was coming. Ask Louis for understanding. Then if he is receptive, tell Arthur to give you time and space. Whoever meets those terms, Arthur or Louis, is the one Harry. You have nothing to loose in calling Louis. Or postponing Arthur.” 

... 

Harry calls Louis. He’s sure Louis won’t pick up. He does though Louis sounds very sleepy. 

“Louis, hey, it’s curly, um Harry...how are you?” 

Louis snorts. “Harry, you know what time it is?” 

Harry looks. It’s 10:13. “It’s 10:13, no 14. Louis it’s ten fourteen.” 

“Thanks Harry. It’s ten fourteen. What’s up. I was in bed. Sleeping.” 

Immediately Harry’s thought is why is Louis, the Louis who never sleeps, bartending nights, daycare early mornings, in bed at ten. Then he worries. 

...who is Louis in bed with? 

“Louis, um, it’s not my business, but what do you mean by ‘in bed’? I was calling to see if we could talk tomorrow, but are you seeing someone?” 

There’s an odd silence for 30 seconds. Harry says “Louis?” Just to be sure their connection didn’t drop. 

Louis speaks next sounding very tired. 

“Look Harry. I’m in bed at me mum’s. Me old room. Not that is your business but no one is in bed with me other than the books I fell asleep on because I’ve been working too much, too soon, with too much homework to catch up on this fast and I am simply too tired. Too tired for this from you. I am not having sex. With anyone. I’m sleeping over and spending the morning here so I can have more time with me mum. That’s all. Then tomorrow I’m going to work for Brandon’s parents for a couple hours to try to help Brandon adjust to coming back to daycare on campus Monday. Apparently when I wasn’t there for a couple weeks in a row Brandon regressed. So. Harry. Me. Tired. Bed. Sleeping. Hoping the book under my head transfers knowledge to my brain by osmosis. No sex. Not even energy for a hand job. Talk to me tomorrow afternoon, but don’t bother if you think I am such a slut that I can’t go even a week or two without some dick.” 

Call ends. That was a serious slap-down. 

*** 

Driving home Harry is quiet. Arthur is elated. He thinks he did well with Harry’s parents. He openly admits he’s looking forward to bed. This means sex. 

Harry remains quiet as he plays over what Louis said. The tone he said it in. The bad way Harry handled things. Arthur tries to fill an usually quiet void. He talks about moving to London, soon, very soon. Continued quiet from Harry finally makes Arthur mute for the remainder of the drive. 

***

Sunday drags on. 

Harry decides to give Arthur a task to distract him in order to allow for secretly watching for Louis to come home. Harry takes Arthur’s comment that Harry’s flat is too small to rid himself of Arthur if only for a few hours. Hopefully that is enough time for Louis to get back maybe giving them time to talk. This is why Harry hands Arthur a page of rental listings, pushes Arthur out the door, suggesting Arthur check the listings out. This challenge thrills Arthur because it’s the only clear sign from Harry that they are indeed restoring their relationship.

No sooner does Arthur leave the flat than Harry begins looking out the window watching for Louis.

Eventually the sight of Louis walking toward their building makes Harry’s heart race. He runs to his door to peak. Once Louis is in the hall Harry springs out.

“Louis, hey, so how is little Brandon?”

Louis doesn’t make eye contact with Harry as he unlocks his door. It’s like Louis doesn’t want to look at Harry. “Well. At least as well as the tike can be.” He says with a noncommittal nonchalance. 

The way Louis is avoiding eye contact with Harry makes Harry want all the more for Louis to really look at him. Louis doesn’t as he continually fumbles with his keys unlocking his door while holding a bag of groceries . Harry tries asking with more hopefulness in his voice. “So can we talk Louis? Um, I thought you and me should talk.”

Louis finally turns to look at Harry with a hardened countenance that says his emotions are deeply restrained. “What? Talk about what?”

“Whatever,” Harry says. He only wants Louis to ask, ask him anything. 

“Anything you want to talk about Louis. How was Jay this weekend. Classes, anything. Arthur...”

This is when Louis does an unpredictable thing. The bag of groceries be damned he throws himself into Harry. About half a dozen apples fall from the bag as he does what can only be described as a fierce launch into kissing Harry without any warning. The forcefulness of the kiss first sends them across the hall into the wall, only for a second or two before Louis pulls Harry with him, back through his open door into the flat where once inside the door it is forced closed by their impact against it, groceries be damned are allowed to fall to the floor. 

For Harry this is both unexpected, confusing and sort of wonderful as it feels so right to let Louis fill his mouth with a tongue eager for battle. Harry realizes he’s driving the frenzy too as he battles back, for the lead in passion. His response leads to sort of moans from Louis signaling acceptance. Harry next realizes Louis has set fingers to work on clothing, an intermittent dance of hands going between the two of them until, with rapid expertise, Louis has them both stripped bare where they stand with a scattering of groceries on the ground around them and a pile of clothing on the floor. 

Once undressed Louis starts walking them back through the flat, his arms going around Harry’s waist, his hands cupping Harry’s booty. Harry can’t be sure where to put his hands on Louis. He decides to hold onto Louis’ arms admiring how lithe and firm they feel. Louis has a remarkable ability to do this backwards walk, leading, while not letting Harry lips linger for long without Louis’ own meeting Harry’s, peppering kisses on them, or on Harry’s chest as he walks them deeper into the flat, to his room, to his bed.

At the foot of the bed Louis turns them around and pushes Harry down. Harry’s excitement is touted by his posting erection which Louis pounces on taking it in both hands as he eagering consumes it in one deep thoat first effort. This has Harry’s back arching his hands grabbing hold of Louis’ hair as Louis comes off dick only to resume stimulating Harry by playing with Harry’s knob, tongue flicking the slit, lips pressing the ridge underside his dick, letting some length be worked in his mouth. 

“Louis, what are you doing to me? I don’t...”

Louis breaks off. He puts a hand over Harry’s mouth. “I know, you don’t want me, not your type clearly. You like the manly dominant kind. Made me kind of crazy believing you felt something too because you keep your secrets so well. Makes so much sense now, you not coming to me at Zayn’s, you only brought your boyfriend to the club because what? To be sure I saw how you move together? To be a tease? You were trying to tell me you like to bottom, be dominated.”

Louis begins to take Harry again. This kills Harry’s ability to think. All he can manage is a flicker of a question of how can Louis be so good at sucking off someone that he is so mad at? Why would he do that? He’s rough and forceful but the tiny nuances to how he uses pressure and heat, wet heat, talented tongue only makes it all seem like there’s a touch of something else in his intention. 

When Louis pops off Harry’s dick, his pink lips red from use, as Harry tries to formulate his thoughts. He needs to tell Louis that he’s has never really liked how he was with Arthur. That’s why he’s never mentioned Arthur. Once the pain over how they parted consumed him. That was until his feelings for Louis took over. In his core Harry knows he should be with someone else. Someone who is not so defensive of being the dom maybe someone emotionally open, willing to take some risks. Maybe someone willing to let Harry be the top for once. Someone who is not afraid to have kids. Someone as playful and devoted a person as Louis. 

Harry doesn’t get to speak as Louis shifts moving up over Harry biting and kissing from pelvis up, pausing once to inspect the appearance of extra rudimentary nipples which he kisses like they are special. Arthur never did that. He liked to joke that Harry was a mutant. 

Once Louis finishes kissing Harry’s shoulders, neck, the underside of his jaw he resumes kissing Harry’s mouth. Unlike earlier when their contact was an assault this is tender. 

One of Louis’ hands keeps working Harry’s erection but the other... A sound indicates Louis has popped the top on a bottle of lube. The squirt sound is next followed by Louis pulling back so he’s upright where he is straddling over Harry’s pelvis. 

“No! You can’t!” Harry tries to protest but Louis just puts three fingers in Harry’s mouth making Harry’s words like a mumble as he pushes Harry’s knob to his entrance. He rubs it there in the slick. Harry can feel how Louis is holding dick like this close to his hole while allowing one finger to dip into his hole. One-handed cock tending and self-prepping is not a move Harry has ever conceived possible but there Louis is. 

He’s not at this long before Louis begins to bear himself down on the head of Harry’s cock. Harry tries to get words of caution out even though his hands don’t help free the muzzle Louis’ one small hands creates with fingers. No. It is like Harry’s hands have a mind of their own; they have found their place on Louis’ arse, fingertips seeking to find a place close to allow them to register both how fabulously full this bum is and how filling his cock will be entering what is a tiny hole welcoming him. 

Louis pushes himself on Harry’s girth. It breaks his determination to silence Harry because he must feel a bite from Harry’s mass. 

This is the most exciting thing Harry has ever had since his first time. This is the dream that became the issue between he and Arthur. The dream to feel the other side of same sex pleasure. There could be no measure of how different this is than Harry’s expectation based on what had been many blow jobs, or hand jobs. Far more tight the pressure of Louis’ hole, hot the heat, deep the pleasure on his cock. It overtakes Harry. He gives Louis a few forceful thrusts before he hears how Louis moans. 

Looking at this boy sat on his dick Harry realizes the scale. Louis is a tiny, curvy vixen. His bum filling for hands to hold. His thighs braced against Harry’s torso, feel muscular and voluptuous. His big, fat bum easily makes a slapping sound as it is sometimes smacks against Harry, or other times is slapped as Harry trusts up. Troubling is finding rhythm because both of them are lost in aggressiveness of this act. Or an aggressive edge it seems to bear. Louis is glistening, a smooth honey-tone skin color takes on more red as he takes the back of Harry’s neck in his hands to assure he keeps a hold of Harry through a rapidly building pace that culminates in a quick need to come. 

Harry isn’t sure if he started to come first and that took over Louis or if it was the other way around. All he knows is he feels the splatter of Louis’ jizz hot on his chest followed by Louis leaning forward to kiss him. It’s a different kiss delivered as Harry’s cock slips free from their connection and Louis’ hole drops what onto Harry what he filled in it. Louis doesn’t apologize for all the mess that is on Harry. He only takes his time kissing Harry like lovers do. Then he speaks but with a tone that is strangely cold and hard. 

“Okay, that was nice. Thanks for the fuck. Get out.” 

“What?”

“Oh come on Harry. You know I am only a cock slut. Right? That is why you asked who I was sleeping with last night. Like it matters to you. Or that it is any of your business. Just wanted to try your dick out before you’re happily ever after with tall, handsome, manly Arthur. Sort of my blessing on your impending nuptials. But now that’s done. Get out.” Louis says this as he gets off Harry, walks out of his room toward the front room. There are still gleaming drops of the load Harry put in him trailing down the inside Louis’ legs. His full bum bounces when it’s free of clothing like the plush play toy it is. His tone said “fuck you” again but not in the nice way. 

Harry gets up too walking on a pair of legs that nearly fail him because they have been so fucking taken from him by Louis’. Following, Louis to the door, Louis picking up Harry’s clothing only to shove them to him, groceries still laying scattered around where they fell and rolled, unexpectedly the door opens. Entering the flat from the hallway are Niall and Shawn. Also there , ironically timed enough, is Arthur. Arthur, mouth agape, with a stray apple in his hand that dropped from Louis’ bag earlier. 

Louis having pushed Harry’s clothes into Harry’s arms blinks not, no hesitation at all the three men shocked at the sight of him and Harry having clearly just fucked. No. No shame. Playing the roll of the slut Louis pushes a-clothing-in-arms-Harry toward Arthur and pronounces, “I am done with this. This is yours I believe. Thanks for the loan though. Nice fuck.” 

***

For almost the entire next week Harry tries to survive. He’s up side down.

He’s not sure where he stands with Arthur since Arthur acts opposite of what Harry expected. Harry assumed that Arthur would break up again with him, kind hoped for it, but instead Arthur took to Harry’s defense, said he’d heard about “tiger tops” like that. Like Louis. Ones that prey upon sensitive subs like Harry. Harry couldn’t tell Arthur how Louis wasn’t a top, or a dom or a sub. He was just... what? 

Angry? Harry felt Louis’ anger. And hurt? Harry felt the hurt in Louis in the way he started things with the angry kiss, the tender under side peeking through, the mixed up tipsy-turvey of it all. And Harry knows most of all that at the core, Louis is mixed up too but he was not using Harry, or playing him. Louis wanted Harry. 

For days Harry doesn’t see Louis even in passing. He sees Niall and Shawn come and go but no Louis. Arthur went to the club one night when Harry is busy with home work and when he came back home Arthur had little to say about Louis except to double down on how Louis is a sassy, little bitch. The way Arthur uses bitch to refer to Louis reminds Harry of Jeremy’s branding of Louis as a bitch which makes Harry want to further withhold from Arthur any of his emotions and the undeniable yearnings of his heart to be Louis’. 

Eventually each day withholding of emotions from Arthur comes a bit easier to Harry. Control of his private thoughts around Arthur becomes increasingly natural for Harry. Little does Arthur know Harry constantly thinks back to the sex with Louis even while Arthur is inside him. The intensity of the one time with Louis doesn’t detract from what Harry knows all of this means. He’s not into Arthur anymore. It’s not because Arthur has put aside promises of bottoming for Harry from time to time, it’s just that the feeling Harry has for Louis consumes him. 

Wanting so desperately to see Louis without Arthur knowing about it Harry goes to the art studio after classes one day pretending to see Zayn but he’s hoping to find Louis there. Zayn hasn’t begun a new piece yet so all Harry can take away is a look at the last piece Zayn did which Harry has a new appreciation for. His hands almost sense the way it feels to be touching Louis when Harry’s eyes study Zayn’s art. No wonder Zayn is revered as such a great talent by the other student models; Zayn’s hands have touched, held Louis too. Such a thing brands to a person’s mind every subtle nuance that makes Louis so sensual, so divine. 

The weekend comes and Harry has decided to take Arthur’s offer to join in a morning run. It’s not that Harry really wants to exercise. It is that this is an opportunity for them to talk away from the flat. Harry has something to tell Arthur and he’s read conflicts are bettter dealt with on neutral ground. He’s decided to tell Arthur that he should go back home to Boston. Harry is going to break it off with Arthur. This time it is not about who bottoms, or who tops, it is about feelings. Harry doesn’t have any for Arthur. Not since Louis. Ignoring the weird and wonderful of their sexual encounter, the feelings Harry has for Louis he realizes long before that encounter. They began the day he took Zayn and Liam’s place in driving Louis to see Jay. That experience showed Harry who Louis really is. Not some dick-craving slut. A beautiful person. Somone who is loving and devoted. 

They are almost back to the building when Arthur takes Harry’s hand. 

“There you go again Harry getting all quiet again. You’ve been like this so frequently lately. Like something is on your mind.” 

Harry is about to pull his hand away when out of the building walks Louis and Zayn. It’s Saturday, likely Zayn is driving Louis to see Jay. They go to a parked car, a new one it appears, since Liam and Zayn had to replace the one that was wrecked. Preparing to get in the car Louis notices Harry with Arthur holding hands, much like he did when Arthur and Louis met with Arthur preparing to propose. 

Louis’ expression that had been carefree and happy instantly becomes cold and stark. The change makes Zayn who was just lighting a cigarette look around to see what Louis is looking at. Harry with Arthur stood together like lovers Zayn says something to Louis, pulling his arm like he’s directing Louis to get in the car. Instead Louis stands his ground for a second. He deliberately stares Harry down as he swipes Zayn’s cigarette doing his best to make the exchange something of a sensual, intimate thing as he takes a drags and passes it back to Zayn to be a suggestive in his approach as possible. 

Arthur is stopped from what he was saying. He has to comment. “That Louis will literally fuck anyone he pleases he’s such a little slut isn’t he? The sooner we move into a new apartment the better. I would just as soon that one not have another chance to try to seduce you again. Seems his big, fat booty calls all the boys in.” 

The staring ceases when Zayn intervenes to force it to stop it by shoving Louis into the car. Harry is speechless unable to comment on Arthur’s comment. He does, however, put aside his plan to send Arthur packing and instead treats his would be ex-fiancé to some good dick riding all the while hating his mix of feelings bottled inside. 

*** 

The sounds of lively voices in the hall going to the flat next door alert Harry and Arthur that something is going on at Niall and Louis’. 

Arthur sticks his head out curious as it seems the flat next door has its door wide open to accommodate welcoming guests to come in at their leisure. Sure enough music is playing loud, people are laughing from inside the flat, there are occasional shouts like a good time is being had. 

No sooner does Arthur’s close the door than there is a knock at it. Arthur opens it. Harry hears a familiar female voice. “Is Harry here?” 

Harry comes to the door. Standing there is Samantha. She’s got a bottle of wine in one hand and a big bag of chips in the other. “So this is the fiancé I’ve heard about? So are you two coming over to the party or not?” Samantha poses the question because for sure Harry and Arthur are dressed like people who are staying in. She, however has on a party dress that is so short it barely qualifies as a dress. 

“Samantha this is Arthur, Arthur Sam. We’re in class together. Um, about the party, um...not sure we are invited.” 

“Of course you are. Here, I’m inviting you. Come on.” 

Harry mumbles something about not dressed, Sam says it’s fine, there’s no dress code she just felt like looking nice, hoping to fine a hook up. She jokes the odds are not in her favor given the hosts are gay, gay friends, but whatever. A girl can dream. 

This is how Harry finds himself with Arthur at a party at the host of the one he loves, his should-be ex hanging on him, only hope for getting through the night is that it is Saturday so Louis should be at Jay’s overnight so they can avoid each other. 

Shawn appears to be handling the bulk of the hosting. When some food is delivered for the party the delivery boy is paid by Shawn. Arthur helps Shawn manage the tower of boxes of hot food. Harry suggests he can help pay since Niall appears to have left Shawn to handle their guests needs. This mistaken assumption by Harry is clarified by Shawn. 

“Oh no, Niall is here. He’s just busy. He’s in back with Louis.” 

Before Harry can think to ask why Louis is home rather than with his mother Samantha comes to him with a pretty young woman she wants Harry to meet. “Harry, Arthur, I’d like you to meet my friend Stacey. Stacey and I have a class together. Stacey is anxious to meet you Harry. She’s heard all about you from another mutual friend.” 

Harry and Arthur greet Stacey cordially with Harry adding “what friend?” 

“Louis, Louis of course. We work together at the daycare. He’s always talking about his new neighbor. Green eyes, dimples, all legs, perfect mouth, he does go on and on in great detail.” 

While Stacey was talking Harry’s eyes glance down to where he has set his drink on the table where they had stacked the delivery of food. In doing so something on the table catches his eye distracting him from Stacey. 

There on the table where the food was placed is the game. The game from the night at Zayn’s. Much of it is covered by the containers but enough of it is poking out from beneath the boxes for Harry to identify it which causes him to ignore Stacey completely. He blurts at Shawn. “Niall and Louis aren’t alone are back there are they Shawn?” 

“No. The party satreted much earlier. Zayn and Liam are with Louis too.” Shawn says much too vaguely. Fugue in its meaning for the two women but not for Harry. 

Harry turns, abruptly walks off. Arthur follows after giving the two girls an “Excuse us please.” In pursuing Harry he questions with a “That was rude. What are you doing?” 

Harry doesn’t have to open the door to Louis’ room because it’s not closed. In view first is two naked people on the bed laying such that the erections they are stroking in hand can be easily handled by either one of them or both. The two on their backs on the center of the bed laying like they are in waiting are Niall and Zayn. Not immediately in view are the sources of sounds that clearly indicate two others are having heated sex. Moans become groans that are partly shouts. It’s only few seconds longer of these animalistic noises before into view comes Liam. 

Liam, holding Louis with his hands under Louis’ bum. Liam must having been standing with Louis pressed up against a wall. Probably to have been literally fucking Louis up against the wall. Louis is holding onto Liam as Liam carries him, arms around Liam’s neck, legs around Liam’s waist and quite notably, Liam’s dick still imbedded in Louis’ arse. 

Liam’s movement is to take Louis to the bed, to the waiting pair. He lifts one of Louis’ legs to allowing him to relocate Louis from his cock which comes free with a gush of milky cum positioning to slip Louis over to straddle the waiting pair of lads. Two set of other hands help with the transfer as Louis takes in with considerable ease the pair of ready, needy cocks. Once free of holding Louis Liam kisses him before totally relinquishing him despite how it looks like Liam’s massive cock could go again if given a little encouragement despite having clearly just filled Louis’ hole as Harry and Arthur heard the final climax of seconds ago. Supportive, Liam keeps doting on Louis with praise even after Louis’ focus on Liam is broken. He has become consumed with the business of riding the pair under him on the bed. 

During all of this Arthur hovers just behind Harry. Harry’s shock has tuned off all his awareness of anything other than seeing Louis engaging with the most slutty of acts one could imagine, the sight of it crushing all Harry had just come to terms with when he was consider his love was committing to one, not the other. 

“Color me surprised,” says Arthur, “what do we have here? An orgy with the little bitch at the center. Funny I thought for sure he was a top and yet here he is, just gotten off one huge cock served and already to double down on two fresh ones, what a slutty little bottom he is! And from the looks of it he’s trained his stamina, hasn’t gotten himself off yet.” 

If a sustained erection following one round of dicking is any indication it’s true Louis has satiated Liam while he’s restraining his own release. His dick waves in directions taken by the combined effort of Zayn and Niall to battle filling his hole with their engorged cocks. Each lad is becoming more sloppy as they manage to stabilize Louis between their two sets of hands. Louis’ bum is both red and sweaty being filled so full in alternating drives of force. It’s Zayn and Niall who become loud now, quickly losing in their pleasure all sensibility over their words. What was praise for taking dick so good, comments of how Louis feels so good, so pretty getting fucked like this becomes a slurry of grunts, moans, “oh gods”, “oh yeses”, then one after the other pops out from buried in Louis’ arse to splatter him with jizz with Liam continuing to support Louis. Liam waits until they’ve dumped their last drops before he moves a limp Louis to lay flat on the bed. 

Limp only in that Louis’ body is slack. The erection still holds. Seems three tops were fucked by him and not one pleasing enough to satisfy. 

Something tells Harry before the first sound of the soft cry from Louis staring once the sex is paused that something is wrong here. Terribly wrong. He stops hearing the continued onslaught of slut-shamming remarks from Arthur. Harry focuses on how the three tops form a little covey around Louis, Louis crying softly. Some whispering among the intimate group gives Harry no clue. 

Suddenly just like that Harry has had it. He can’t know why. How, or what comes over him. He has no evidence to suggest Arthur isn't entirely right but as Arthur finishes saying something about how “some kind of milkshake that boy has, talk about bringing them all to his yard, nailing that arse must be some sweet, sweet honey.” 

“Arthur!” Harry shouts causing three on the bed to pause in their fawning over Louis to stare at the two interlopers at the door. “Do you have to make such lewd, ignorant comments. You need to leave. Here, leave here, leave my flat, leave the building, get out of the fucking country. Some people aren’t always what they seem to be. Me, for example, I’m not the one for you. Go pack up your things and go, go home, we’re done.” 

Arthur’s footsteps stomping off are mixed with the sound of a couple angry punches laid into the hallway wall. Harry’s attention doesn’t leave Louis though the three lads taking a stance off the bed like to confront Harry feels a bit imposing. Nevertheless Harry doesn’t back away instead he steps into the room. Closes the door. He wants answers. 

“What is this? What is going on? What happened to that story that sharing Louis was only about Jeremy? What’s wrong with Louis, why is he crying?” 

“Well there’s two things wrong with Louis.” Liam says. “You are one of them. Louis is in love with you.” 

Harry looks at Louis who is laying on the bed an arm over his face, from what Harry can see he’s failing at an attempt to hide tears. 

“Please don’t tell him that!” Louis cries. “Don’t tell him anything more, please.” 

Niall tries to softly sooth Louis while Liam suggests Harry will have to talk to Louis, it seems. Only Louis can decide. “Tell Harry what happened that Saturday, Louis. Tell him why you were so angry. Tell him what happened earlier today.” 

Like that the three of them get their clothes, once dressed they leave the room. One last “Tell him” is all that is said. 

Alone in the room Harry takes a seat on the bed. Louis’ erection had waned with his tears. Harry’s proximity makes Louis choke to stop his crying though his rapid breathing pattern signals that he is challenged trying to control his emotions. 

“Tell me what?” Harry says touching Louis one hip. The coloration restoring to normal from the once sex-flamed red. “That you think that you’re in love with me. Are you telling me that you weren’t only meaninglessly toying with me but using hot-angry sex to punish me because I never told you I had an ex? An ex who wanted me back. How could I know that? I was as surprised as you were to come home and find Arthur in the hallway outside my flat. And then it seemed like you were mad at me, trying to hurt me, like I asked him to come. You were mad. Weren’t you?” 

Louis pulls his arm away. His face shows earnestness. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at life. I was trying to hurt you. That’s true, only not for what you think. Only, only...to push you away.” 

“You have to give me more than that Louis. Mad at life? Because, what, because my ex came crawling back?” 

Louis fiddles with himself like his fingers need the distraction. “Life. See that’s the thing. You remember that infamous call you made to me a few weeks ago on a Saturday night...you assumed I would only be in bed at ten PM because I must be fucking someone, then the next day I was like that with you... .” 

***

Harry learns that when Louis was visiting his mum as he usually does on Saturdays, her nurse had a new set of instructions as requested by the pharmaceutical research team as they were projecting the scope of a phase of tests to run on patients like Jay. Get a blood sample from any of her relatives for genetic testing. Louis being her only relative gave a blood sample. Within hours of it going to the lab the researchers called the nurse. They questioned it, did she accidentally confuse the labels identifying the source? The reason? Prior to extracting DNA for the genetic analysis they ran a standard test to profile the blood components. The sample was unusual. 

Questions were mandated because the leucocyte levels in the sample from the relative of the focus patient were not consistent with a healthy person. They were going through with the genetic screening for the known makers for a gene linked to Jay’s form of cancer but they wanted a second collection of blood from Louis. Sunday morning, the morning after Harry and Louis fought on the phone call, Louis went to the lab for them to do a second blood draw. Then he went to Brandon’s. Within the two hours he was with the little boy the researchers called him back. They would know in a week the full results of the genetic test but the other tests suggest Louis is suffering some condition. His blood screen shows white cell counts consistent with many things, including cancer. 

Louis’ angry sex with Harry was on the cusp of some imposing threat that he too might be unwell. And today? Saturday when Louis would normally go to see Jay, instead he was escorted by Zayn to do yet another blood draw. This time specific screenings because the full genetic results had come back. While Jay was heterozygous for a highly leathal form of cancer, her son was homozygous for the linked gene form. 

Learning this fate Harry understands everything Louis has done. Right down to the party. Zayn brought him home and Louis confessed to his friends that he was so afraid, so afraid that Louis couldn’t even call his mum who would surely miss their usual special Saturday together. The more his close friends tried to distract Louis the more he unraveled. Somewhere in the course of the evening suggesting more friends come over might make things better. It didn’t. He could only think of Harry. 

Adding to Louis’ fear of probability of failing health was the guilt for treating Harry so badly in an attempt to chase Harry away, back to his boyfriend. 

It’s quiet between them after Harry learns the reason for Louis’ odd behaviors. At first Harry is trying to absorb it all. Next Harry waits until after the sounds of guests leaving and for the flat to become quiet before he speaks. He still doesn’t know what to say. When he does speak he asks if he can take Louis to the shower. It’s pretty obvious when they go that Louis is pretty wobbly on his legs whetehr that be due to the strenuous dicking he took, the emotional upheaval, or both. 

In the shower, both of them warmed by the water and their bodies pressed together, Harry gives Louis’ shoulders some tiny kisses while his hands run over the lads small form working soap into a lather. When his hands go between cheeks Louis moans. His desire shows as dick becomes hard “Stay there.” Louis says not wanting Harry’s hands to slip away from the way Harry rubs him. 

Harry plays with Louis’ bum, his body responding to Louis’ the way Louis has responded to his touch. Without words between them Louis moves to stand pressing his arse into Harry’s pelvis. With head turned so they can kiss over his shoulder Harry begins to stroke Louis’ dick in slow motions timed with Louis’ his bum pressed to frame Harry’s erecrion stroke it between plush cheeks. Being quiet except for soft moans Louis makes his desires known by tilting forward, pushing back, a hand taking on Harry’s dick so Harry knows Louis feels the knob bobbing at his entrance. It hasn’t been so very long since Louis was fucked on Liam’s massive cock, then plowed open by the pair of Niall and Zayn so it takes very little of this before the head of Harry’s cock takes an easy slip into Louis’ entrance. The instant it does has Louis gasping, “Yes, yes, oh please yes.” 

Harry has to oblige. He goes deep to Louis’ delight. Louis bends forward more, back arching to tilt his pelvis giving Harry further ease to fill him thrust after thrust. Harry fights to keep his hands on Louis’ wet hips for giving Louis stability because his force with each drive seems to put Louis off balance despite Louis moving to have two hands on the shower wall in front of him. Harry gets the feeling the water temperature has been turned up significantly when he realizes that is just because he’s worked into a hot frenzy feeling so good for his only second time in his sexual life getting to be the top. 

Louis gives him little warning; his walls tighten on Harry’s cock giving it a wave of pulses so sweet a sensation Harry can’t withdrawal without letting Louis’ body work his through an orgasm so intense he can hardly manage to remain standing. Or after Harry to pull Louis up from. Somehow he does, turning Louis around to face him and into his chest as they kiss. At once the essence of the kiss conveys something so entirely different for Harry he can’t really conceive that what he’s expericed before as being sex or love. 

“So this is what sex feels like when you love someone, really truely love someone.” Harry says between kisses that go to Louis’ forehead allowing him to talk. 

Louis content to rest his head on Harry says with sadness still lingering. “You really shouldn’t love someone who wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend. Who would only cause you pain.” 

Harry is sure the implication is that with Louis’ prognosis for being a victim of fate Harry would be wise to find love with someone else. He wants to dispel that notion. “Well I’ve had a bad boyfriend for years. I’ve been in pain for not feeling the way love makes everything feel real. Sweeter, richer. I would be pleased to be the best boyfriend ever to the most beautiful boy even if the road ahead looks terrifying.”

*** COMPLETED WORK***


End file.
